A Story's Conclusion
by ScribbleWiggy
Summary: The country of Skyrim has been battered by civil war, and dragons. Finally, however, it has come to an end, and a new High King or Queen must be chosen. Unfortunately that is not the only issue the country be handling in the months to come. It will deal with thieves, assassins, and threat that will raise the question of whether or not its greatest hero will stay, or flee once more.
1. The Moot - A Meeting at Midnight

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

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 **...**

 **All right, all right. So I gave in. Sue me.**

 **Oh wait, you probably won't, because if you're reading this, it's because you _want_ to! **

**I know the title is kind of the worst, but... it's the best that I could do. This story is about _all_ of the OCs, and I couldn't... **

**Eh. Whatever.**

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 **A Meeting at Midnight**

* * *

It was near midnight, from the look of the moons, which were the only source of light over the small grove of trees where a cloaked figure sat waiting on a rock.

It wasn't hard to realize they were waiting there for the start of a secret meeting. From the way they kept glancing around, and up at the sky, it seemed that the meeting was late to start. No doubt they were wondering where their accomplices were, wondering what was keeping them, and if it was worth it to keep waiting.

The figure stirred as there was the sound of movement through the undergrowth, and they rose from the rock, wary despite knowing that no one other than who they were meeting would know to find anyone here.

Another hooded figure emerged from the edge of the trees into the small clearing where the first stood. They gazed at one another for a moment, and then, just as a precaution, the first spoke the agreed upon question, "What is the name of our enemy? The true name?"

"Crayla Honeyrunner," the second responded, and the first relaxed.

"Where is the other?"

"I don't know. It's well past the meeting time. I apologize for being late."

The first shook their head. "It is no matter. We will all be exhausted by the time we return to our homes anyway. It'll be hard enough to explain as it is."

There was more movement, and then a third figure crept through the trees, glancing between the two already standing in the clearing.

"The name?" the second arrival asked.

"Crayla Honeyrunner," the third answered, and all three moved closer together, so they wouldn't have to speak as loudly.

"Have we heard any updates?" the third questioned of the first.

"The Jarl of Windhelm is planning his journey to Solitude for the King's Moot," they replied. "He is adamant against the Dragonborn's sister joining him, but she is stubborn, and will most likely be brought along."

"We will need to come up with a plan to get her away from her sister," the third said, wringing their hands beneath the folds of their cloak. "The security around them will be lessened if the future High Queen is not present."

"So that is the final decision, then?" the second said, looking around at their companions. "The Moot will result in a victory for Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"Only one of us has the power to make it so," the first stated, looking at the third.

They nodded. "Unless something unforeseeable occurs, the majority of the jarls are prepared to vote Ulfric into the position of High King."

"Which means, if we do not accomplish what we plan to before they leave Solitude, that access to the Dragonborn will be even more unlikely," the second pointed out, sounding weary.

"Let us not worry about a failure," the first soothed. "We won't fret until we absolutely have to. We will have to trust in our friend, to be sure that he acts as we need him to."

"Have you been in contact with him?" the third queried, and the first shook their head.

"Not since the first letter I sent, and the one that was returned."

"And how do you know it came from him?" the second demanded.

"Because I know him," the first retorted, sounding as though they were beginning to lose their composure. "We spoke with one another during the vampire fiasco."

"That was almost six months ago, now," the third pointed out. "How do we know that he hasn't had a change of heart since then?"

There was silence between the three of them for a moment, each no doubt imagining what would happen, were their fourth accomplish to choose not to complete his task.

Finally, the first shook their head. "We need to trust him. It is our only hope as of now."

"But how can we trust him?" the second exclaimed. "He is so close to the Dragonborn's friend… the one that refused to kill her multiple times already!"

In response to this explosion of words, there was a rather loud howl of a wolf, echoing through the trees around them. All three figures jumped, and looked worriedly at one another.

"It couldn't have been her, could it?" the third whispered.

"No," the first assured, "and even if it was, she couldn't have heard us."

"Who's to say?" the second hissed at them. "For all we know, she's running back to inform the Dragonborn right now -"

"Silence!" the first said sharply, under their breath. "Bad thoughts come true, you know this." Still, they glanced over their shoulder for a moment, listening. "We are not safe here. Scatter. We will talk after the Moot, with either jubilation that the Dragonborn is dead at last, or despair that we will have to try harder."

All three figures departed from the clearing in different directions. Once they had gone, a few minutes passed before a large being worked its way into the clearing. It stood on two legs, but had large shoulders, and the head of a wolf. It raised its muzzle and sniffed the air, tasting it for the scent of the three figures that had been in the clearing minutes prior.

After a moment, it bared its teeth, and howled, loud and long, towards the dual moons. Then it raced away into the trees, in the same direction the third figure had gone.

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 **And yes, I know this is extremely short. It's the prologue, people! Y'all should know by now that if it's a prologue, it's gonna be freakin' short!**


	2. The Moot - Three Points of View

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

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 **This is gonna be a fun finale, you guys.**

 **Y'all don't even know what's coming your way.**

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 **Review Response:**

 **Guest: And I'm here with more!**

 **Shane Scaffa: I'm glad! I hope you like this installment, too!**

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 **Three Points of View**

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Cry Silverworthy closed her eyes as a gust of wind blew over the training yard, causing her hair to flutter backwards off of her neck. She let out a breath and leaned into the wind, pressing her hands against the overlook's wall, enjoying the feeling immensely.

"Cry." She opened her eyes at Vilkas's voice, and turned to find him standing behind her.

She smiled, and offered him her hand. He took it, and she pulled him forward so that he could join her on the overlook, gazing out over the plains of Whiterun.

They were silent for a moment, and then she glanced at him. "I received another letter from Solitude."

"I saw it," Vilkas replied.

"I don't understand why they want me to go," Cry sighed, and Vilkas smiled to himself, sliding an arm around her waist.

"You're the Dragonborn," he said. "Obviously, that raises you to a higher stature, even if you weren't the sister of the High Queen to be."

Cry snorted to herself, and Vilkas chuckled, pulling her against him. "Didn't the two of you make a bet on who would win?" he asked her, and she nodded.

"It was more of a joke than anything."

"Hmm." Vilkas turned his attention to the plains, and the sun setting over the mountains. "You know what this reminds me of?"

Cry allowed herself to grin. "Your proposal."

"Mhm."

"Or, I should say, your _poor attempt_ at a proposal."

"I shouldn't have even had to ask you," Vilkas pointed out. "It was sort of set in stone, wasn't it?"

"I'd say so," Cry agreed. She turned and leaned back against the wall so that she could look at him. "You weren't ever going to be rid of me."

Vilkas tilted his head as he studied her, smirking. "Can't say I ever wanted to be."

"Oh, please," Cry said with a roll of her eyes. "You didn't like me at first."

"I thought you were full of yourself, for someone who didn't know how to fight properly," Vilkas admitted, "but I know you didn't like me, either, so -"

" _I didn't know how to fight properly_?" Vilkas took a step back as her voice thundered, and Cry inhaled sharply, bowing her head. "Sorry, sorry. I forgot that happens." She then lifted her eyes to his and glowered. "But you're wrong. I beat you fair and square that first bout we had!"

Vilkas sighed outwards through his nose. "Yes, yes," he mumbled. "Continue to rub it in my face. But you must admit that you didn't know nearly as much back then as you do now, and you partially owe that to me."

Cry lost her glower, and her smile returned. "I didn't join the Companions because I wanted the free bed and food," she told him.

Vilkas stepped forward again, and he took her chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting her head up so that she met his gaze. "I'm glad you joined us, and I'm glad you beat me that first bout," he told her. "Otherwise, things would be much different, and I don't know how I'd feel about that."

Cry gazed up at him. "I'm sorry, Vilkas," she murmured. "I know I've said it already, countless times, but… you can always use one more apology."

"And you can always use one more reminder that it doesn't matter," Vilkas replied softly. "You're who you are now, and that's what's important, because _you're_ who I swore to be with, no matter what." He let go of her chin, and put his arms around her waist instead. "You are my wife, and, as far as I'm concerned, that's the only thing that matters, and the only thing that will matter, for a very long time."

Cry smiled softly, and leaned up on her toes to press a kiss against his lips. Vilkas returned it, gently, and then she settled back down, and rested her forehead against his shoulder. Vilkas's hand drifted up to her hair, and he brushed his fingers through it.

"Vilkas," she began after a time, turning her head so that he would be able to hear her clearly.

"Mhm?"

"Will you come to the King's Moot with me?"

Vilkas smiled to himself, and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Of course."

* * *

Ziris Coldwater peered over the edge of the wall she was crouched behind and studied the target. He was sitting in a chair on the raised section of deck, drinking a bottle of mead. He didn't look like he was going to be moving for a long while.

Brynjolf popped up next to her, and hummed to himself. "Well," he said after a moment, "at least he's drunk."

"He seems to be one who drinks all the time," Ziris agreed. She lowered herself back down and turned to face her partner. "So, you go talk to him, and I'll sneak in there and grab it."

"Why do you get to do the sneaking?" Brynjolf asked, and she gave him a look that answered his question. Brynjolf sighed in annoyance, but it was obviously fake, and he grinned. "Fine, fine. I'll go do what I do best, and let you do what you do best." His grin widened. "Even though picking pockets has never been your strongest skill."

Ziris shoved him, and pointed towards the drinking Nord. Brynjolf waved his hand, and stood up, straightening the shirt he was wearing. He then sauntered over to where the Nord was seated on the raised deck, and began to speak with him.

"Good afternoon, sir!" he greeted, and Ziris poked her head over the wall again to watch. He bowed to the Nord. "How are you doing on this fine day?"

The Nord blinked drunkenly at him. "Do I know you?" he asked after a moment, his words slurring, and Ziris shook her head to herself, before she slid around the wall and began to dart between the shadows lining the big boat building, towards where the Nord was seated.

Brynjolf sighed to himself. "No," he said. "I'm here to ask about joining the Companions."

The man eyed him. "I'm not really the one who you should be talking to about that," he said. "She's inside, busy."

"Oh," Brynjolf said. He did a good job sounding disappointed. Ziris scooted into the the last of the shadows, right beside the Nord's chair. "Could you tell me about the Companions, at least?"

"That would take a long time, my friend," the man slurred.

Ziris paused in reaching her hand towards his pocket when he lifted his bottle to his lips and slurped some mead from it. When he was done, she shuddered a bit, and continued reaching forward.

She could see what she was trying to steal from him already, just barely poking out of his pocket. She reached forward as far as she could without falling out of the shadows, and slipped her middle finger through the chain on the silver and emerald pendant necklace.

"The Companions is a group of warriors," the man was saying to Brynjolf, who nodded like the man was all knowing.

"I see," he said, sounding awed.

Ziris refrained from rolling her eyes, and she tugged, gently. The pendant freed itself from the Nord's pocket. Ziris quickly snatched it up into her hand and darted away as swiftly and silently as she could.

She raced away from Jorrvaskr, out of the Cloud District. Ducking behind the Bannered Mare, she opened her hand and grinned down at the pendant, turning it about in her fingers.

"Ziris." She jumped when Brynjolf rested a hand on her shoulder. "Relax," he advised."It's only me."

She let out a breath, and showed him the pendant. "Got it."

"Aye," Brynjolf agreed, "good job."

He reached forward to take it, but Ziris pulled it away. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked him.

Brynjolf gazed at her, frowning. "This was my job, remember?" he asked after a moment. "I only brought you along in case I needed help."

"Which you did," Ziris responded, "and so we're going to split the pay."

" _Split_ it?" Brynjolf chuckled. "I don't think so." He reached out and place a hand around the chain, tugging it, and her, towards him. "Give."

"No," Ziris answered. "I stole it, I get to hang on to it."

"That's not -" Brynjolf tugged again, and this time, he pulled her close enough that she could kiss him. Brynjolf snorted, and pulled back, successfully prying the pendant from her fingers in the process. He grinned, and held it up to show her. "Mine."

Ziris shrugged. "Whatever." She started to say something more, but then there was suddenly a loud rally of horns playing a fanfare from somewhere far off, but loud enough so that they sounded nearby. She frowned, and looked at Brynjolf. "What is that?"

"No idea," Brynjolf answered. He snuck out from behind the Bannered Mare and started in the direction it had come from, towards the gates of Whiterun. "Come on!" he said, waving his hand towards her. "Let's go find out."

Ziris followed after him, and, sticking to the shadows, the two thieves made their way through the gates of Whiterun and down to the main road, hiding behind a crop of rocks.

Peering out from behind it, Ziris recognized the flags that were waving off in the distance immediately, above what looked to be a battlement.

"Oh, look," she sighed. "The Stormcloaks are coming."

* * *

"Sithis's blood," Hainin Marshal muttered, watching as the troops marched by, never ending, apparently. "What in the name of all the Gods are they doing in Whiterun?"

The Bear of Markarth waved proudly over the heads of the Stormcloaks as they marched on down the road, in the direction of the gates of the city. It wasn't hard to miss.

Nazir, who was standing beside him, shook his head. "I'd guess they're here to pick up the Dragonborn and take her with them to Solitude."

"What's happening in Solitude?" Hainin asked, glancing at him.

Nazir stared at him for a moment, as though wondering if he was actually asking the question. When Hainin didn't say anything, Nazir rolled his eyes. "The King's Moot, Hainin."

"What?" Hainin looked at the passing Stormcloaks in disbelief. "The King's Moot is happening? And we weren't invited?"

Nazir exhaled patiently. "You did kill the Emperor, Hay."

"Sure, but they don't know that." Hainin gestured towards the parading soldiers. "Why did they bring a fucking battalion?"

"Kings like to be over protected," Nazir responded.

Hainin snorted to himself. "It's idiotic."

"Doesn't explain why they've decided to travel with Cry," Nazir went on, ignoring him.

"I can take a few guesses," Hainin said. "Ulfric's decided having Cry's support ups his chances even higher than they already are, or…" He waved his hand at the Stormcloak banners. "Cry was more involved in the war than we thought she was."

Before Nazir could reply, a large man in Stormcloak officer armor road past on a big gray horse, shouting as loud as he possibly could: "Make way for Ulfric Stormcloak, General of the Stormcloak Army, and Jarl of Windhelm, and his left hand general, Faisley Honeyrunner!"

Following close behind him was Ulfric Stormcloak himself, riding a brown stallion and cloaked in royal garb. Riding beside him on a speckled mare was who Hainin knew to be Faisley Honeyrunner. Her red hair gleamed in the sunlight, and she was smiling to herself as she rode along beside the jarl.

Hainin waved at the two of them as they rode past, but neither noticed. A few more rows of marching Stormcloaks followed behind them, and thus ended the parade. He and Nazir were allowed back onto the road, watching as they continued on further ahead.

After a moment, Hainin rolled his eyes and looked at Nazir. "Doesn't seem like he thinks anyone else could be chosen, does it?"

"I mean, he did win the war," Nazir commented, beginning to walk again. "Although, he started it, too, so… I don't know. Nords are odd."

Hainin followed after him, because there wasn't much else he could do, grumbling a bit to himself. "Full of themselves is the proper saying."

Nazir chuckled. "I won't argue with you."

"Wait a minute," Hainin started after they had walked for a bit. Nazir glanced sideways at him, and Hainin frowned. "Why are we going to Solitude?"

"We may not have been invited to the Moot, but that doesn't mean we can't be in attendance," Nazir responded with a grin.

"But I didn't actually want to go," Hainin muttered under his breath. "I thought we were just stopping in Whiterun to say hello to Cry, and then making our way to Solitude to kill something." He glanced at Nazir. "Are we going to kill something?"

"None of the important people," Nazir said, "but, sure, I don't see why not."

That seemed to cheer Hainin up, because he smiled. "All right."

They walked on for another minute or two in silence, and then Nazir looked at him again. "Do you actually care if he gets chosen?"

"No," Hainin said with a grin. "Not at all. But it's fun to complain, isn't it?"

Nazir glanced sideways at him, wondering if the Imperial was joking. "I suppose so," he said at last.

They continued on after the royal procession, keeping a fair distance between them. When they reached the place where the procession had stopped, just before the first gate to the city, they ducked behind some rocks to watch.

A group of soldiers near the front of the long lines raised some horns to their lips and blew a fanfare through them. When they were done, the man who had shouted before repeated his call, "Announcing the arrival of Ulfric Stormcloak, General of the Stormcloak Army, and Jarl of Windhelm, and his left-hand general, Faisley Honeyrunner!"

Hainin leaned closer to Nazir. "Is she really so important as to warrant her own announcement?" he asked. "She's the _left-hand_ general."

Nazir was watching the redheaded Nord closely. "I don't know," he murmured. "But she looks very familiar to me, and I can't place why."

Hainin thought about it for a moment, thinking about the last time he'd encountered Faisley and Ulfric, which had been when he was dealing with the vampires. He knew that there was a reason she looked familiar to Nazir, but he couldn't remember what it was.

 _Oh well_ , he thought. _If it's important, it'll come to me_.

The line of Whiterun guards that were waiting for the jarl and Faisley parted, to let an important looking man through. He crossed over to where Ulfric had stopped his horse, and bowed.

"Jarl Ulfric," he began, "it is an honor to have you in Whiterun."

Ulfric slid off of his horse and walked over to him, in order to shake his hand. "It's good to be here," he said.

Hainin sighed to himself. He had to admit that Ulfric did have a nice voice.

"Jarl Vignar has prepared rooms for you and your companions in Dragonsreach," the important guard said, "as well as ordered space to be made in the barracks for your soldiers."

Hainin glanced at Nazir and let his eyes roll. Was this visit really worth all this fanfare?

* * *

The Stormcloak procession split as they entered the gates of Whiterun. The many soldiers followed the Whiterun guards towards the barracks, while Ulfric Stormcloak, Galmar Stone-Fist and Faisley Honeyrunner followed Captain Sinmir towards Dragonsreach.

Cry and Vilkas were standing outside Jorrvaskr as they walked past, and Cry nodded to her sister, who smiled back. By the time they'd disappeared into the palace, Farkas had emerged from Jorrvaskr.

"What are they doing here?" he queried, indicating the palace, and Cry shook her head.

"I'll assume they wish to travel to Solitude with Jarl Vignar," she answered, and then she turned and entered Jorrvaskr.

Vilkas and Farkas remained outside for a moment longer, watching Dragonsreach. When Vilkas turned and went inside, however, Farkas followed.

They found Cry on the outside eating area, sitting in a chair and watching Njada and Athis duel. Vilkas sat down in a hair nearby, and Farkas took up post against one of the posts holding up the roof of the eating area.

"Do you honestly think they're just here for Vignar?" Vilkas asked Cry, who didn't respond.

Some time passed, during which Njada defeated Athis, and both went back inside Jorrvaskr, leaving the three members of the Circle outside alone. They were still there when Faisley herself rounded the corner into the training yard, grinning.

Farkas went to meet her as Cry rose from her chair.

"Hello, again, Farkas," Faisley greeted warmly.

The Companion offered her a grin of his own, and bowed to her. "Future High Queen."

"Faisley."

She brushed past Farkas and into her sister's waiting arms, hugging her tightly. Her sister laughed. "It's good to see you, too."

Faisley held her sister away from her at arm's length, and grinned. "You've avoided me like a plague since the war ended," she commented. "Any particular reason?"

Cry offered her a shrug. "Busy with… Harbinger and Thane stuff, I guess," she responded. "I sort of had to restake my claim with all the jarls once the Stormcloaks won the holds."

"Sure," Faisley agreed. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"It's all right," Cry answered, grinning. "It was easy, once I reminded them that I was the Dragonborn."

Vilkas stepped forward, and Faisley turned to him. "I know we've never met, but…" She offered him her hand. "Brother-in-law."

Vilkas shook her hand without responding, and Cry bit her lower lip. Farkas slid up beside her, and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Don't worry too much," he suggested quietly. "He'll get over himself."

Cry wasn't so sure, but she chose not to respond. Instead, she scooted away from Farkas and back over to Vilkas, taking his hand in hers and sliding up closer to his side.

"So," she said, looking at Faisley. "Why are you in Whiterun?"

Faisley offered her a look of confusion. "You didn't get my letter?" she asked. "I sent one, asking if you'd like to travel to Solitude with the procession."

"Oh," Cry said, glancing up at Vilkas. "I got a letter from Solitude, but not one from you." Her husband shrugged, signifying he hadn't seen a letter from Faisley, either, and Cry turned back to her sister. "It's kind of you to offer, though."

"It was Ulfric's idea," Faisley said, sounding sort of proud.

"How interesting." Cry exchanged another glance with Vilkas. "Well, I suppose since you're already here, we may as well travel together."

Her sister beamed. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure Ulfric will be, too."

"Attending the Moot?" All four of them turned to see the Guild Master of the Thieves Guild, Ziris Coldwater, emerge from a patch of shadows, her head tilted to one side. Her second-in-command, Brynjolf, joined her, dressed in normal civilian clothing rather than his armor, like Ziris was.

Farkas scowled at them while Cry slipped behind Vilkas a bit, avoiding Brynjolf's gaze.

"What's the Thieves Guild doing in Whiterun?" her friend grumbled.

"We have business here," Ziris answered coolly, "as I'm sure the Stormcloaks do."

Cry knew Ziris from Helgen, where they'd both almost been killed. They'd been there with a battalion of Stormcloaks, as well as the current Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Hainin Marshal.

Needless to say, after the mess with the vampires, Cry had a better relationship with Hainin than she did with Ziris, whom she'd only met and spoken to maybe twice, at least in person. All three of them had been keeping in close contact, however, through letters, mostly because the three of them were leaders of important factions in Skyrim.

Brynjolf glanced over at Cry, and she inhaled when his green eyes met hers. She quickly slid out from behind Vilkas, and looked at Ziris, in order to hide her uncomfortableness.

"I hope this business doesn't involve the Companions," she said to the Guild Master.

"Not at all," Brynjolf replied for Ziris.

Cry couldn't help but glare at him. "I don't believe I was talking to you."

"Easy there, dragon," Brynjolf said, holding up his hands and grinning. "No need to blast me with your fire."

Cry swallowed against the Shout that was burning in her throat.

Before she could speak, however, Vilkas stepped in: "How do you know about the Moot?"

"You forget that we have connections with the Jarl of Riften," Ziris said.

"The _previous_ Jarl of Riften," Faisley said, butting in. "If I'm correct, and I know I am, the jarl you had ties with was Maven Black-Briar, and she was Jarl for about… a year?"

Ziris bristled, but Brynjolf stepped in before she could retort. "Apologies, my lady," he said, bowing. "With all the change in leadership as of late, it's difficult to keep track. You are, of course, correct. We came to Whiterun to do business, and we just now heard of the Moot from several soldiers."

"Oh, come now, Brynjolf," a voice said from behind him. "You don't need to suck up to her yet."

Cry smiled. "Hello, boys."

Ziris turned to see Hainin Marshal and his Speaker Nazir standing back a few paces. Hainin was smiling cheerfully. He pushed through Ziris and Brynjolf to get to Cry, and tossed his arms around her in a hug.

Nazir passed through them more carefully and politely, and offered the Companions a bow of his head.

"It's good to see you," he said to them.

"Isn't it fun that we're all here together?" Hainin asked gleefully, pulling out of the hug and slinging arms around both Cry and Vilkas's necks.

"Oh, yes," Cry said with an exhalation, glaring at the thieves. "I'm overjoyed."

There was a stiff silence as Ziris and Cry met eyes, and Ziris was tempted to storm up and shove her. Instead, she turned her gaze away, and straightened her shoulders.

"We should all calm down, I think," Faisley said after a moment. "It doesn't matter who's here, and who's not. Whiterun is an open city." She cast a look in Cry's direction. "You may be Thane, but you don't own the city, Sister."

" _Sister_?" Ziris asked in disbelief, glancing between Cry and Faisley with wide eyes.

Hainin followed her staring, and then he gestured to the two of them. "You didn't know that?" Ziris didn't respond, and Hainin looked at Nazir instead. "I guess _that's_ the reason why the Stormcloaks are here. I completely forgot they were sisters."

Nazir rolled his eyes, and Hainin chortled, looking at Ziris. "The Dragonborn is the little sister of the future High Queen of Skyrim. What luck!"

Cry closed her eyes, and let out an exhale. "I may not own Whiterun, but it is my city, my home," she said, directing it to everyone.

Her eyes drifted to Brynjolf again without her meaning them too. "There are some people I don't want in my home."

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. "You must be able to make some exceptions," he said.

Cry glanced away, and Ziris stepped closer to Brynjolf. "I think we'll return to Riften, now, since our business in Whiterun is concluded," she said, glancing up at her partner. She reached for his arm, and tugged on it, signaling it was time to go.

Brynjolf, however, was still watching Cry. "Do we need to go rushing off so soon?" he asked after a moment. "We've only just arrived."

"He's right," Hainin pointed out. "Stay awhile, Ziris. Forget about the Guild for a time, and travel with us to Solitude."

"Won't you?" Nazir queried. "It'll be such a merry gathering with all of us together."

"I really don't think -"

"Oh, come on, Ziris," Brynjolf interjected. "It could be fun. When was the last time we took a trip just because we wanted to?"

Ziris glanced up at him. "The Guild -"

"- will be fine," Brynjolf finished for her. "Delvin and Vex have been in charge before. They can handle it."

Ziris let out a breath, and glanced around at everyone present. "We'll talk about it tonight," she finally said. "Come on, we should get a room at the inn."

She pulled him away from the others, out of the Cloud District and toward the Bannered Mare. When Jorrvaskr was out of sight, she glanced at him.

"How do you know Cry?"

Brynjolf didn't even falter. "The lass came to Riften during her dragon adventure, looking for information about that old man who lived in the Warrens for a while. You remember him?"

That answer seemed to content her, but Brynjolf had left out some information. Cry had come to Riften looking for the old man, but she'd done a lot more there than simply find him. Brynjolf wasn't ashamed to admit that they'd spent a night together in the Bee and Barb.

It was hard to ignore the lass. She was beautiful, ethereal almost, in a sense of the word. She reminded him of the rising sun, oddly enough, and all the fire that came with it. And when she'd spoken to him, he hadn't been able to resist the obvious song in her voice, and she hadn't been able to resist the charm in his.

It had only been a night, however, and then he'd never seen her again. It didn't matter, now, of course. He and Ziris were 'on again', as she liked to call it, and he was perfectly content.

Still… seeing Cry again, after all this time… it was going to linger with him, especially if he and Ziris decided to travel to Solitude.

It was fine. He'd handle it. That was what he was good at.

* * *

 **Oh yeah. This is gonna be a party.**


	3. The Moot - A Night in Whiterun

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **Sometimes I pretend that I don't know what's happening next in the story, and then I pretend to be surprised when I post the chapter so that I can act like I'm just as surprised as you are.**

 **That doesn't really pertain to this chapter, but I just thought I'd share, cause it'll pertain to future chapters.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **None this week, which was a little sad. I hope we have some next week!**

* * *

 **A Night in Whiterun**

* * *

"So, you know Brynjolf, too?" Hainin inquired, trailing after Cry as she started up the stairs towards Jorrvaskr's mead hall from the living quarters.

Cry exhaled through her nose. "Not well," she told him. "We met a long time ago, when I was in Riften for some Dragonborn business." She shrugged. "I needed some information, and I got it from him."

"Hmm. Interesting." Hainin glanced around the mead hall as they walked up the stairs into it. It had been dark the last time he'd been here, so it was odd to see it in fading daylight. "Nice place. Did I tell you that already?"

"You may have mentioned it," Cry replied, smiling to herself.

She hadn't expected to form a bond with Hainin, but, oddly enough, she had, and she was happy to have him here. He would keep her grounded throughout all the events that would be happening within the next week or so. She needed someone to do that for her, or she'd go drifting away and never come back.

Vilkas was seated at the long table, and he reached for her hand as she passed him. She lingered long enough for him to kiss the back of it, and then she took it back and continued on, sighing in frustration to herself.

"Where can it be?" she demanded.

"Where can what be?" Hainin inquired from behind her.

Cry turned around again. "I'm trying to find that… that thing," she said vacantly, walking past him in the direction she'd just come.

Hainin watched her go in confusion, and then he decided to let her be odd on her own, and he went to join Vilkas at the long table.

"Thanks again for letting us stay here," he said, sitting down in a chair of his own.

"Of course," Vilkas replied. "I still feel indebted to you, for suggesting to Cry that she come home."

Hainin waved him off. "Enough about that," he suggested. "It's all over."

Vilkas nodded, relieved.

"Hey," Nazir greeted, coming up the stairs from the living quarters. "Did Cry find whatever she was looking for?"

"I don't think so," Hainin answered as Vilkas turned around in his seat to look at his wife. Cry was rummaging around on one of the shelves lining the walls, but he felt as though she wasn't actually looking for anything.

Vilkas sighed to himself, and slid out of his chair. He crossed the room to where she was, and placed a gentle hand on her waist. Cry stiffened momentarily, then relaxed when she realized it was him.

"Maybe I could help you find whatever it is you're looking for?" Vilkas suggested.

Cry shook her head, hands still on the shelf. "I don't think so. It'd be different, if I was actually looking for something, but… you can't help me find nothing, can you?"

Vilkas carefully pulled her away from the shelf and turned her around so that she was facing him. He tilted his head when she wouldn't meet his eyes, and frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked, softly, and Cry glanced over to where Nazir and Hainin were seated, and then over to where Farkas and a few of the others were coming inside to eat dinner.

She then looked at Vilkas, and gestured with her head. "Not here, all right? Later, I promise."

"Sure," Vilkas agreed, glad that she was at least admitting there was something wrong. "Later."

Cry nodded, and then she took his hand. "Let's eat," she suggested.

Vilkas let her pull him back to the table, and they took their seats beside Farkas, who glanced sideways at the two of them, as though he could sense there was a problem, too. Vilkas offered him a look, and Farkas nodded in understanding, turning instead to the food that Tilma had prepared.

Dinner was fairly normal, all things considered. The Companions took to the company without hesitation, and before long, Cry had to save Hainin from submitting himself to a drinking challenge from Torvar. She gave the Listener a subtle shake of her head, and mimed drinking bottle after bottle of ale.

Hainin seemed ready to wave her off, but when he saw Torvar reach for the third bottle he'd be drinking for the evening, his expression shifted drastically, and he shook his head in response to the proposed challenge, reaching for the jug of water instead.

Cry smiled to herself and returned her attention to her food after seeing Nazir's grateful expression.

It wasn't a surprise, unfortunately, when a pair of uninvited guests showed up halfway through the meal.

To her benefit, Ziris did not look like she wanted to be there. Brynjolf, however, was smiling cheerfully.

"Apologies," he began, "but we were hoping you wouldn't mind if we joined you."

Cry exhaled to herself when everyone looked to her for a response. She glanced sideways at Vilkas, who appeared ready to shake his head, but stopped himself after the last moment and instead shrugged.

So, she turned back to the thieves, and forced a grin. "Sure," she invited, gesturing towards two vacant seats near the end of the table. "Feel free."

"Thank you," Brynjolf said, still smiling. He offered her a bow, and then hopped down the stairs to the lowered part of the mead hall, heading for one of the open seats.

Ziris remained where she was a moment longer, and was ready to run out the door. She saw Brynjolf settle in as though he belonged there, however, and that bothered her, so she went to join him.

After that, side conversations sort of dwindled off, and everyone started eating quietly to themselves. Cry wasn't sure if she'd ever heard the long table so quiet during a meal. It was odd.

Thankfully, the Companions finished off their meals more quickly than she'd thought them capable, and they departed from the dining hall with mumbled goodnights and farewells.

It was no time at all before Cry, Vilkas, Farkas, and the guests were the only ones that remained at the table.

"So," Hainin said, leaning back in his chair, "that was delicious. Good cooking, my lady Tilma." He nodded to the maid, who rolled her eyes and finished clearing the table without saying a word.

"Are you two finding the Bannered Mare comfortable?" Vilkas asked the two thieves.

"As comfortable as any inn," Brynjolf replied, smiling.

"If we had any extra rooms here in Jorrvaskr, we'd gladly offer them to you," Vilkas went on.

Cry blanched at the notion, and she glanced sideways at her husband. He seemed very genuine about the offer, and she took a moment to thank the Divines that they didn't have any spare rooms.

"That's kind of you," Ziris said, noticing how pale Cry had gone.

Vilkas shrugged. "Not every day we get visitors," he said, looking over at Cry. She managed a grin, and hoped it didn't look as fake as she thought it did.

"He's right," she agreed, gazing around at their guests. "It really is good to have you all here, no matter what I said earlier." She forced a laugh. "I guess it's just hard for me, knowing that we aren't all chained to our own holds."

"Mm, yes," Nazir said, exhaling. "Once I figured _that_ out, I only wanted to travel."

Hainin snorted. "That's not true. Don't lie to everyone."

"I'm not lying," Nazir retorted. "I've made a point of trying to get out more."

Hainin rolled his eyes, and shook his head at Cry, mouthing "No he hasn't."

Cry smiled, more easily this time, and glanced towards where the thieves sat. She found Brynjolf already watching her, and she quickly turned her gaze away.

"So, Farkas," Hainin said, looking at the Companion who had yet to speak. "Are you coming with us?"

Farkas shook his head. "I need to stay here. Someone has to be in charge while the Harbinger and the Master at Arms are gone."

"I was going to put Aela in charge," Cry said, "but Farkas said he could handle it." She glanced at her friend. "I imagine they'll be working together, however."

"If she gets back in time," Farkas mumbled under his breath.

"Gets back from where?" Ziris asked, and Cry looked at her.

"Aela likes to go hunting," she explained. "Sometimes she goes on trips that last a week or so. She's already been gone for a good number of days, though, so I doubt she'll be gone much longer."

Truthfully, Aela had been spending more and more time away from Whiterun, and Jorrvaskr. Cry didn't know where she went, but she had a good idea of what Aela did while she was gone. She just wished that her friend would talk to her, rather than go missing for days at a time.

"Well, everyone has their way to blow off steam," Brynjolf said.

Cry breathed outwards through her nose and avoided glaring at him.

"I think we should be heading back to the inn," Ziris decided, standing up. "Thank you for allowing us to eat with you. It really was very good."

"It was our pleasure," Vilkas assured, standing as well. "Cry?"

"Right," she said, taking his hand and rising. "We'll walk you out."

She and Vilkas led the two thieves towards the doors of Jorrvaskr. Cry was careful to avoiding looking at Brynjolf, even when he stepped outside and turned to face her and Vilkas, bowing to them.

"Thank you again," he said, doing his best to meet Cry's eyes, but she kept hers firmly on a point behind him. "We'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes," Vilkas agreed. "Make sure to get a lot of rest tonight. We have a long day of travel ahead of us."

Brynjolf straightened up with a nod, and then he and Ziris headed away from Jorrvaskr. Vilkas placed his arm around Cry's shoulders, and led her back inside.

Hainin was standing, stretching his arms over his head, and he glanced over at them when they returned to the mead hall.

"Nazir and I are going to head to our room to get some sleep," he said.

"Do you need anything?" Cry asked him. "Hot water to clean up in, maybe?"

"Oh, yes," Nazir said, sounding relieved. "That would be wonderful."

Cry turned to fill up the cooking pot with water in order to get it heated over the fire, and Vilkas watched her movements, noting how stiff she looked. She really was worried about something.

"Farkas," he started, looking at his twin. "When the water heats up, will you carry it to our guests' room for them? Cry and I need to go downstairs and prepare for bed ourselves."

"Sure," Farkas agreed, standing up and moving to take Cry's place beside the fire. He had to nudge her out of the way, and she moved towards Vilkas, who gently took her hand, and glanced at the assassins.

"We'll see you in the morning."

Hainin nodded. "Goodnight," he said. "Sleep well."

"You too," Vilkas returned. "Come on, Cry." He led her out of the mead hall, and down the stairs into the living quarters. They passed the whelps' room, and the snores coming from within.

They reached their room at the end of the hall, and Vilkas quietly closed the doors behind them, before turning to look at Cry, who'd settled down heavily in a chair at the table in the corner of the sitting room. She had her forehead in her hand, and Vilkas leaned back against the doors, crossing his arms.

"What's going on with you?" he asked, gently, and Cry closed her eyes, exhaling.

"I promised you that I wouldn't keep anything from you," she said quietly.

"Aye," Vilkas agreed, furrowing his brows. "You did."

"So… you can't… get angry at me, when I tell you what's wrong," Cry went on, glancing at him without raising her head.

Vilkas frowned. "Why would I need to get angry? What happened?"

Cry swallowed, and closed her eyes again. "Before I came to Jorrvaskr, I… I had to go to Riften, for a Dragonborn thing," she began softly. "And… my path crossed with Brynjolf's, who just so happened to have the information I was in Riften for. He gave it to me, and… something else, too."

Vilkas gazed at her, and Cry opened her eyes when he didn't say anything. She looked at him, wincing when she saw the expressionless look on his face.

"It was before I met you, Vilkas," she told him, "and… it was only one night. After it happened, I never saw him again."

"And… him?" Vilkas said after a moment of silence had passed. "How does he feel about it?"

"I don't know," Cry admitted, "and… hopefully, I never will."

Vilkas gazed at her for a moment longer, then let out a breath, and nodded, once.

"All right," he said, moving away from the door, and uncrossing his arms. "Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it, really."

Cry lowered her hand to the table, and looked up at him as he approached. He offered her a smile. "Don't worry," he said. "If he's smart, he'll act as though nothing ever happened between the two of you."

"He was the first person I ever told that I was the Dragonborn."

Vilkas blinked at her, and Cry waited to see what his reaction to this would be.

After a moment, his shoulders set, and he shrugged them. "It's happened," he said. "That's all there is to it."

Cry exhaled, relieved. "Thank you, Vilkas," she said quietly. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before, but I didn't think I would ever have to."

Vilkas smiled. "I can understand that," he told her. "What do you say we get some sleep?"

Cry nodded, and accepted the hand he held out for her.

* * *

"Best decision you've made in a while," Hainin mused, leaning back against Nazir's chest, eyes closed.

"Hm." Nazir poured a handful of water over Hainin's chest, and then ran a bar of scentless soap over his shoulders. "We need to be clean."

"Yes, but there's other positives to this, too, don't you think?" Hainin queried.

Nazir chuckled, and nodded. "Yes, there are," he agreed. "Though… I don't understand why I always have to sit behind you."

"Because I'm not as comfortable as you are," Hainin reminded him. "We already discussed this."

Nazir rolled his eyes. "We'll need to re-discuss it at a later date," he decided. "I want to be the one who gets the attention."

"You're so _needy_ ," Hainin complained.

Nazir dropped the soap into the bath water. " _I'm_ needy?"

"We're both needy," the Listener amended.

"Mhm," Nazir said, smiling, "and I cater to your needs more easily."

"That's because I'm extremely charming, and you're the best," Hainin concluded drowsily. The warmth of their bath was definitely making him sleepy. "Did you notice anything odd at supper?"

"You mean other than… well, _everything_?" Nazir inquired, draping his arms around Hainin's shoulders.

"So it _wasn't_ just me, then." Hainin sank down further in the water, slipping out of Nazir's hold and spinning around to face him, suddenly re-energized. "Thank Sithis! What _was_ all that about?"

"It seemed to me that the Dragonborn knows a certain redheaded thief better than she cares to admit," Nazir replied, picking up the soap in order to use it on himself, "and that she was fretting over telling her husband about this acquaintanceship. The appearance of the thieves did not make her worries any easier to cope with."

Hainin nodded as he listened to this. "Exactly what I was thinking." He grinned. "Oh, that's great! Cry and Brynjolf _definitely_ -"

"I know," Nazir said quickly, cutting him off. "You don't need to say it out loud, Hainin."

"But it's the best bit of gossip we've gotten our hands on since… well, ever!" Hainin splashed at the bath water happily, giggling. "Oh, how do you think Vilkas is going to take it, when she tells him?"

"Fine," Nazir said simply, finishing with his washing and setting the soap over the edge of the tub. He stood, then grabbed for one of the nearby robes they'd laid out, and wrapped himself in it.

"But do you think he's going to keep Cry as far away from Brynjolf as possible?" Hainin queried, sinking beneath the water in order to get his hair wet. "I mean, wouldn't you?"

"Well…" Nazir smiled to himself as he settled down on the edge of the bed. "I doubt I'd need to worry about it very much, considering your tastes."

Hainin splashed some water in his direction, and reached for the hair oils that he always brought along on a journey. He poured some into his hands, and then scrubbed at his hair, his head tilted thoughtfully to one side.

"Do you think there's the slightest chance that either of them is still attracted to the other?" he finally asked, sinking down in the water to rinse.

"I'm sure," Nazir said. "You can't just stop being attracted to someone, Hay. Besides, anyone would be blind not to recognize that they are both very attractive people. Two attractive people being attracted to one another is not unheard of."

"But they're in love with two other people, that are slightly less attractive," Hainin pointed out, leaning over the edge of the tub.

Nazir snorted. "Brynjolf is not in love with the Guild Master."

Hainin's eyes went wide. "You don't think so?"

"No," Nazir said, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Hainin asked, extremely intrigued.

"I'm not exactly an expert," Nazir said, glancing at him, "but… there's just something about the way he reacts to her that makes me think he'd rather not be standing so close, especially once he saw Cry."

Hainin grinned. "I'll have to pay more attention tomorrow," he decided, and then he did a final dunk under the water to make sure he was completely rinsed before he clambered out of the tub as well, pulling on a robe of his own.

Nazir watched as he bounded lightly across the room and jumped onto the bed with a gleeful hum.

"Ugh, why do a group of mercenaries live in better comfort than we do?" Hainin questioned.

"Because they kill people that probably deserve to be killed," Nazir replied, laying down.

"Fair enough," Hainin agreed after a moment of considering it. He then looked down at his companion, and smiled a bit. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"I'm glad we're here together," Hainin told him. "I wouldn't have thought to stay, if I had come by myself."

"No, you probably wouldn't have," Nazir confirmed with a small smirk, "since you didn't even know the Moot was happening."

Hainin rolled his eyes as Nazir chuckled, and he settled down beside him.

"Sleep good, Red," he murmured, cuddling up beneath Nazir's arm.

"You too," Nazir responded, and he leaned his head against Hainin's, smiling a bit at the fresh, flowery scent of his hair.

* * *

"All right, talk," Ziris ordered, leaning against their recently closed door of their room in Whiterun's inn, and giving Brynjolf a look.

"Talk about what?" he questioned without looking up from his task of unbuttoning his shirt.

"How do you _really_ know Cry?" Ziris demanded. "She wouldn't meet your eyes at dinner, and I need to know why. Right now."

Brynjolf set his shoulders after he'd pulled his shirt off over his head, and he seemed to examine the floor with a quite a bit of interest for a long time.

Ziris waited, growing less patient with every passing second.

Finally, however, Brynjolf looked up, and over at her. "We may have spent a night together a long while ago," he said.

"What?" Ziris asked in disbelief.

"Don't get all riled up," Brynjolf sighed. "It was only one night, and I hadn't seen her since. It doesn't even matter. Truth be told, I'd forgotten all about it."

Ziris stared at him without a change in expression. Brynjolf waited, wondering what was going through her head.

At last, she turned her eyes to the floor. "I see," was all she said.

"It was nothing," Brynjolf assured her.

"Hm." Ziris moved away from the door, and towards the bed, reaching up to undo the buckles on her armor. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

Brynjolf started towards her to help, but Ziris warned him to stay away with the glare she shot in his direction.

He backed off, and resigned himself to the fact that he was most likely going to be spending the night on the floor.

He was studying it, trying to determine the most comfortable spot, when Ziris spoke from behind him: "When did it happen?"

He glanced over his shoulder, and found her watching him closely from where she sat on the edge of the bed, dressed down completely.

"It was while you and Mercer were after Karliah," he told her.

Ziris didn't seem visibly shaken by this, but there was a small change in the light in her eyes. She nodded, and pushed back the blanket on the bed, scooting beneath it.

"So, it happened when you and I weren't…" Brynjolf gestured, and Ziris nodded again.

"I know."

"Right." He glanced around again, and then gestured to the spot he'd determined would probably bother his back the least. "I'll just… get comfortable here on the floor."

"That you will," Ziris replied tersely, and Brynjolf barely had time to get his hands up in order to catch the pillow she threw sharply in his direction.

"Thank you," he said to her, but she'd already rolled over, facing away from him after blowing out the candles closest to her.

Brynjolf exhaled heavily, and blew out the other candles, before placing his pillow down on the floor, and settling down with it. So much for getting a night of well rested sleep.

Ziris was still glaring into the darkness long after she was sure Brynjolf had dozed off, even with her more comfortable sleeping arrangement. She couldn't believe the nerve of him, suggesting they travel to Solitude with the others. He wanted to be close to Cry. She should have sense it from the beginning, with how defensive Cry had been when the thieves had first revealed their presence in the city.

At least she'd handled the meeting with the proper amount of modesty. Brynjolf hadn't seemed shaken by it whatsoever, and it gave Ziris cause to wonder.

 _So what if he still has feelings for her_? a sharp voice in the back of her mind demanded. _She_ is _beautiful. Can you blame him_?

Of course she could, Ziris decided, especially after he'd so willingly accepted the assassins' invitation of joining the procession on their trip to Solitude. Why else would he have agreed, if not to spend a few days with Cry before they separated again, probably for even longer than the last time?

 _Bastard_ , Ziris thought sourly. She'd wouldn't be letting him out of her sight over the coming days. Who knew what he would plan in order to get closer to the Dragonborn?

Ziris decided that she would not only being doing it for her sake, but for Vilkas's as well. She didn't know the man, but she understood enough to see that he really did love Cry very much. Ziris was too good of a person to let the night she and Brynjolf had shared get in the way of that love that Cry obviously felt for him as well.

She knew that she could trust Cry to keep her distance as much as possible, and it made her sad to realize that she couldn't trust her own friend and partner as much as she did someone whom she'd spoken too in person only once.

That truly said something about Brynjolf's character, and it made her wonder why she loved him so much.

Frustrated, she leaned up long enough to plump her pillow, and then fell back down again with a grunt. She needed to get some sleep, if she didn't want to kill herself along with Brynjolf in the coming days.

* * *

 **Boy oh boy I told y'all that one-shot with Brynjolf and Cry would be important!**

 **I bet no one believed me. Goofballs.**


	4. The Moot - The Start of a Trip

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **Let's travel to Solitude with the squad, shall we?**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Nothing again! I'm getting very sad.**

* * *

 **The Start of a Trip**

* * *

"Let's hit the road, ladies and gentlemen!" Hainin announced, bursting through the doors of Jorrvaskr by flinging his arms outward in a very dramatic fashion so that both doors flew open at the same time, and then he strutted down the stairs to solid ground, humming as he went along.

Nazir followed him out of the Companions' home much more slowly, carrying both of their packs, since Hainin had forgotten his in his haste to get outside.

He exchanged a long suffering look with Cry. "Before you ask," the Redguard started, looking towards where his partner was admiring the Gildergreen, "he _is_ always like this."

Cry smiled. "I think it'll be good for everyone," she told him. "Hainin will provide some much needed entertainment."

Nazir chuckled, and shouldered his pack. "I'm glad someone thinks highly of him," he said, and then he started down the stairs to the circle of the Cloud District. "Hainin, I hope you don't think I'm carrying your bag the entire journey!"

Cry watched the two assassins interact with one another, still smiling to herself. Hainin took his pack from Nazir, who seemed to scold him for a moment. Hainin responded with a flippant wave of his hand, and he gestured to the Gildergreen. Nazir followed the gesture, and his shoulders slumped in resignation.

"They're an interesting pair," Vilkas said, coming out of Jorrvaskr behind her.

"Yes they are," Cry agreed, turning to look at him. "I'm glad they're coming with us."

"Me too," Vilkas replied, and he gestured to her pack, which she had slung over one shoulder. "I'll take that down to the horses, if you like."

"Did you already say goodbye?" Cry asked, shrugging out of the strap, and passing it to him.

Vilkas nodded, and gestured towards Jorrvaskr with his head. "Your turn."

Cry watched him head off towards Whiterun's gates, with Nazir and Hainin following. She then returned to the mead hall of Jorrvaskr, where she found Farkas leaning against a wooden post and examining the rest of the Companions, who were all just sitting down to breakfast.

She joined him, and they stood in a companionable silence for a moment, just watching.

Finally, she glanced at him. "You'll be all right, won't you?" she asked him.

"Sure," Farkas replied with a shrug. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just… we haven't left anyone alone in charge since…" She trailed off, and waved her hand. "You know."

"It'll be fine," Farkas assured. "I'm sure Aela will be back by tomorrow, at latest, and we don't need to worry about something like that happening again because we made sure it couldn't."

Cry considered him for a moment, and she relaxed a bit when she saw the expression on his face. He looked just as calm as he sounded, and he offered her a grin.

"You don't need to worry about anything," he promised her.

"I know," she said after another second. "Thank you, Farkas."

"Sure." He shrugged, and then reached out to hug her. Cry hugged him back, tightly, and then she pulled away and turned to address everyone else.

"All right," she said, and, thankfully, she immediately drew everyone's attention. "You all know that we never put anyone truly in charge, but… I'd like you all to at least _try_ to listen to Farkas while Vilkas and I are gone. Fair?"

She received a few mumbled confirmations, since everyone was still busy with their food, and she decided it was good enough.

Nodding, she turned back to Farkas, and patted him on the shoulder. "We'll see you in a couple weeks," she said.

"Be safe," Farkas responded, and Cry ducked out of Jorrvaskr.

Just in time, too, because she spotted the whole grand party that was joining them coming down from Dragonsreach with Ulfric, Faisley, Galmar and Vignar at the head. Behind them were at least ten personal guards for the jarl, including his housecarl.

Brill was walking alongside Vignar, and they paused at the foot of the stairs, and finished speaking with one another. Brill bowed his head to the jarl, who reached out and shook his hand, and then sent him on his way back up to Dragonsreach.

Cry decided to go over and join them.

"Good morning, Sister!" Faisley greeted warmly.

Cry smiled back. "Good morning, Faisley." She faced Vignar and Ulfric. "My Jarls."

"Hello, Dragonborn," Ulfric said. "Are you and your traveling companions ready to leave?"

"They're all waiting at the stables," Cry replied.

"Great," Vignar said, starting to move again. "I'd like to reach Dragon's Bridge by nightfall, if at all possible."

Cry fell into step with Galmar, a few paces behind the others. He reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Stop it," Cry said, brushing his hand away. "I'm not a child anymore, and you're a decorated war general."

"I was a decorated war general before you were born, _child_ ," Galmar informed her, but nonetheless he dropped his hand.

Cry shook her head to herself, and gestured around Whiterun. "How do you feel about being back here after spending all that time out in Skyrim's wilderness?" she queried, glancing up at him.

"Cities." Galmar scoffed a bit. "Believe it or not, but I'd prefer a battlefield."

"I believe it," Cry said after a moment. "Does this mean you're not going to accept whatever higher up position Ulfric offers you when he becomes High King?"

"No, I'll accept it," Galmar grunted. "He needs me, and I won't let him try to run Skyrim without my input."

Cry smiled a bit. "Fair enough."

They made their way through Whiterun, and Cry noticed the looks that the party received from quite a few of Whiterun's citizens. She did her best to pretend like they didn't bother her, but inside, her stomach was twisting. She knew that not everybody was going to be happy with the way the war had ended, but she hadn't thought that so many of them would be people that lived in her home.

She could only imagine what life was going to be like, once Ulfric was named High King. In simple terms, she wasn't going to be as respected by everyone as she had been when she'd killed Alduin, that much was for certain.

 _Oh well_ , she thought, as they escaped a glowering look from a group of Battle-Borns that were all standing around their home in the city, as though they'd sensed the approach of the procession. _It comes with being a Nord with serious ties to your homeland._

They neared the stables outside of the city, and Cry smiled when she saw Vilkas standing with her horse, and his. She went over to them, and placed her hand on Queen Alfsigr's velvety nose.

"Morning, pretty lady," she greeted. Allie snorted, and Cry stroked her face a moment longer, before she turned to face Vilkas, who was busy with his own horse, a big gray brute that he'd taken to calling Skjor, for obvious reasons.

"I still don't think that Skjor would much appreciate the name," Cry told him as she moved around to Allie's side in order to swing herself up into the saddle.

"When the horse is Skjor as a horse, you call the horse Skjor," Vilkas said simply, giving Skjor one final pat on the neck before climbing up into the saddle himself.

Hainin was busy doing his best to calm down a horse he'd rented, struggling to hold it steady while Nazir attempted to hang their packs off its saddle. The horse wasn't having any of it, and it suddenly broke free of Hainin's grip on its bridle and ran, taking Nazir with it.

"Hainin!" the Redguard exclaimed, hanging onto the saddle for dear life.

"No!" Hainin shouted, running after the horse. "Bad not-Shadowmere! Sit! Down!"

Vilkas looked at Cry, who shook her head, and focused her attention on the fleeing horse. Something burned first in her chest, and then in her throat. " _Kaan_!"

Immediately, the horse stopped running, and slowed to a trot, then a walk, and then came to a complete stop.

Hainin ran right into its rump, and fell backwards with a groan, while Nazir carefully dislodged himself from the saddle and reached up to fix his hood.

"And that," he announced, "is why I hate horses."

Vilkas and Cry exchanged a chuckle as Nazir moved around the now very calm horse to help Hainin to his feet. Their laughter was disrupted by clapping from somewhere nearby, however, and Cry examined the yard below where they sat atop their horses.

Brynjolf was leaning against one of the stables's wooden posts, grinning like a fool. "That was incredible," he told Cry, gesturing towards the assassins and their horse.

Cry scowled and turned away. "I didn't ask what you thought," she said tartly. She clicked her tongue and turned the Queen's head, directing her towards the road, where the rest of the procession was getting ready for their march.

Vilkas followed on Skjor, and Brynjolf did the same on foot.

Cry glanced down at him. "No other horses for rent, thief?" she inquired, and Brynjolf shook his head.

"We didn't need one." He gestured towards the rear of the procession. "See?"

Ziris was standing next to a beautiful cream colored stallion, cooing to it.

Brynjolf smiled and looked back up at Cry. "His name's Frost. Maven Black-Briar gave it to Ziris as a present, after she became Guild Master."

"Well, good," Cry said after a moment. "At least you won't need to walk."

Ziris watched this interaction between Brynjolf and Cry from where she stood next to Frost, fuming a bit. The horse nudged her with his nose, and Ziris reached up to pet his mane.

"I know," she mumbled under her breath, watching as Cry promptly turned her, and her horse's, backs to Brynjolf. "He's obviously an idiot. But we tolerate him anyway."

 _Even though I still don't know why_ , she thought, watching as Brynjolf started towards where she was, smiling. Ziris forced herself to return it.

"Ready?" he queried, reaching her, and placing a hand on Frost's neck.

"As ready as I can be," Ziris sighed, glancing around. She didn't want to travel to Solitude. The last time she'd been there was… before, and when she'd almost lost her life in an explosion in the East Empire Trading Company warehouse.

Brynjolf nodded in understanding. "If you decide you want to go home -"

"No," Ziris said quickly, and Brynjolf looked at her, curious. She shook her head. "No, we'll… we'll go." She forced another smile. "Besides, it'll make the Guild look bad if we don't."

"True enough," Brynjolf agreed almost instantly, and he climbed up onto Frost, then reached down a hand to help Ziris up as well.

Just in time, too, for someone up ahead blew into their horn, announcing that it was time for the procession to head out. Ziris rolled her eyes to herself at all the fanfare that came from traveling with royalty, and she glanced over her shoulder at Brynjolf.

"Ready?" she queried, and he nodded. "All right then."

They set off down the road at the very rear of the procession, and Ziris noted that Vilkas and Cry were offered a spot at the front, but declined, and settled near the middle, on the outside of the marching Stormcloaks and Whiterun guards.

Hainin and Nazir appeared beside Ziris and Brynjolf on the back of their borrowed horse, already arguing. "If we get anywhere near Dawnstar, I'm swapping this one out for Shadowmere," Hainin was saying.

"Shadowmere doesn't like me," Nazir returned.

"I don't care," Hainin stated. "This horse doesn't like either of us." He glanced over his shoulder at the Redguard. "Wouldn't you rather be riding a horse that likes at least one of us?"

Nazir considered this for a moment, and then he nodded. "I suppose so."

Hainin faced forward again, content, and seemed to notice that they'd fallen in beside Ziris and Brynjolf. "Oh, good morning!" he said cheerfully. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Ziris responded before Brynjolf could. The last thing she needed was the assassins knowing about what had happened between Cry and Brynjolf, too.

Hainin faced forward again. "So did we."

Nazir reached up and smacked the side of his head. Hainin didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. Instead, he merely grinned.

"Are you excited to be coming with us?" he asked. "I know that you weren't at first, Ziris, but how do you feel now, seeing what you'll be traveling with?" He waved his arm towards the mass expanse of Stormcloaks marching ahead of them.

"Oh, yes," Ziris said, eyeing the soldiers with distaste. "I'm _very_ excited now."

"You don't need to pretend around us, Ziris," Nazir told her.

"No," Hainin agreed, "but I'd be wary around Jarl Ulfric and his soon to be lady wife. Apparently, they had a bit of a row last night about the attendance of… us." He gestured around at the four of them.

"Did Ulfric not want us to come?" Brynjolf asked.

"I imagine it was that way," Nazir responded. "No doubt he doesn't see the necessity of having us in Solitude."

"When, of course, there _is_ necessity," Hainin concluded.

"Oh really?" Ziris glanced sideways at the Listener. "And what would that be?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Hainin asked. "If we all go parading into the Moot at Ulfric's side, then the other jarls are gonna realize that there's no chance of any of the factions in Skyrim supporting them instead, so they're all just going to vote for him." He straightened his shoulders, rather pleased with himself for coming up with such an explanation. "It's foolproof."

"It does make sense," Brynjolf said after a moment, "but if Ulfric believed it, he wouldn't have been opposed to our traveling with them." The redheaded thief considered it. "Perhaps it was Cry's sister who did not want us traveling with them."

"What?" Hainin scoffed. "No, that's impossible."

"Why?" Ziris queried.

"Because she's _Cry's sister_ ," Hainin responded. "Why would she be against us coming along?"

"Well… it seemed Cry was against it, at first," Nazir supplied. "Perhaps Faisley thought her sister wouldn't go if we decided to. Although, I feel as though Cry would have gone no matter what. She is the Dragonborn, after all. No doubt the jarls want her opinion on the matter."

"Speaking of which, do the other jarls know the relationship Cry has with Faisley?" Brynjolf asked.

"No idea," Hainin answered with a shake of his head.

"I imagine they will, once this is all over," Nazir said.

"Or maybe she doesn't want them too," Ziris murmured.

Hainin looked over at her. "You don't think so? Why?"

"Well…" Ziris shrugged her shoulders, and twisted the reins a bit. "Cry's really… she seems to care about how everyone in Skyrim feels about her, that's all. If everyone were to know that she was related to the woman that's going to marry Ulfric Stormcloak, opinions of her might change. She might not want that, since she's respected everywhere."

"But they all already know that she fought in Solitude with the Stormcloaks," Nazir said. "What does knowing that she's Faisley's sister change?"

"The knowledge that Cry will have the High King's support behind her, no matter what, or vice versa," Brynjolf said quickly, catching on. "That might bother some of Skyrim's citizens."

Hainin hummed. "No wonder she hasn't told many people that they're related. She doesn't want people to think she's more than they are."

"She is, though," Nazir reminded him. "A lot of people treat her like she's a god already, because she saved the world."

"But she still tries to… I don't know, connect with everyone," Hainin said. "She must think that having people know she's a royal, basically, would ruin that 'friend of the commoners' thing she has built up."

"But Cry's not any different," Brynjolf said.

"That's not going to matter to everyone else, once her sister is actually in power," Ziris told him. "They're all going to think Cry's left them behind for the monarchy."

"Or they're going to think that she's working with the High King and Queen to make life better for everyone, since she knows what they need."

That didn't garner any response, and Brynjolf glanced to his left, watching the plains of Whiterun pass by as they trotted along at a steady pace. "Of course… that'll only happen if everyone decides to see the good in all this."

Hainin snorted. "When has that ever happened?"

"Exactly," Brynjolf agreed.

More silence ensued, and then Hainin sat up a bit straighter.

"We can't let Cry's reputation decline because of this," he decided.

"And why not?" Ziris asked him. "It's not like we owe her anything."

"Are you kidding?" Hainin demanded, turning to her. "Cry not only saved the world, but she saved our lives, back at Helgen." He scowled. "Or have you forgotten?"

"She didn't save our lives at Helgen," Ziris retorted sharply. "That sodding dragon did."

"You don't think that dragon decided to attack Helgen just because it felt like it, do you?" Hainin questioned. "It attacked because it knew Cry was there! Why else would it have shown up just as she was about to get her head cut off?"

"Because it was a dragon that wanted to attack a village of helpless people," Ziris told him. "Cry may have saved the world, but she's never done me a personal favor."

"You're just acting like this because you know that Brynjolf _likes her better_!" Hainin shouted.

The shout seemed to echo around the procession, and the soldiers marching ahead of them glanced over their shoulders in surprise.

Ziris was looking at Hainin in shock, and Hainin was breathing rather heavily.

Nazir reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Relax," he advised under his breath.

Hainin closed his eyes and turned away from the thieves. He clicked his tongue, and the assassins' horse sped up and left Ziris and Brynjolf behind.

The two thieves were silent for quite some time.

"Is he right?" Ziris finally asked, quietly.

"No," Brynjolf replied. "I don't know why he'd even say that."

"Maybe he has reason," Ziris suggested under her breath.

"I think he was upset, and he said it to hurt you," Brynjolf told her. "You shouldn't… think too hard about it, because it's not true."

Ziris decided not to respond.

Further ahead, Hainin finally pulled the horse to a slower speed, and he bowed his head over the reins.

"I can't believe I said that," he sighed under his breath.

"Me either," Nazir agreed crossly. "You'll be extremely lucky if Cry didn't hear you."

"If she'd heard me, I'd probably already be dead," Hainin replied, exhaling. He glanced ahead, towards where Cry was riding beside Vilkas, and then he shook his head. "I don't know what happened. I just… got really angry."

"Clearly," Nazir replied. "I believe it's safe to say that you are, in fact, the worst at keeping gossip hidden." He rolled his eyes, grateful that Hainin couldn't see. "I don't understand why you three can't get along, all at once."

"I'm _trying_ my best, but it's hard to get along with Ziris when she refuses to get along with Cry!" Hainin told him.

"Well, you'll need to try _harder_ ," Nazir said simply. "We all have to at least pretend we're friends, or else Solitude is going to tear us to pieces."

Hainin was quiet for a moment, and then he leaned back against Nazir a bit. "Do… do you think Cry's mad that we decided to come?"

"No," Nazir responded. He slid his arms around Hainin's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. "No, I think she'll be glad we're there."

"Why?"

Nazir glanced ahead to Cry, who was leaning between their horses to say something to Vilkas. "I don't know yet," he said at last, "but… I think it'll become obvious as time goes on."

* * *

 **Oh jeez. Some tension's rising. This could be bad news bears for our actors in this political play.**

 **What the fuck am I talking about?**


	5. The Moot - A Night in Dragon Bridge

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **I hate not having reviews to respond to! That's usually my favorite part, and now it's not even a part anymore. It's really sad.**

* * *

 **A Night in Dragon Bridge**

* * *

Cry slid down off of Allie and handed her reins off to the soldier that had come to take her to the stables. She offered the soldier a smile that she hoped would show she appreciated him, but she wasn't sure he saw it, because he turned away as soon as he had the reins in his hands.

She watched him go, and then sighed to herself and turned to look at Vilkas. He shrugged his shoulders, obviously feeling the same way she was, but not seeing anything that they could do about it.

Cry didn't think it was fair that the soldiers, who'd had to walk all day, were now in charge of making sure the horses that they hadn't ridden were comfortable before they themselves could get comfortable. Still, she understood that they weren't her soldiers to command, so there wasn't anything she could say or do that would change it.

They were stopping in Dragon Bridge for the evening, despite the fact that they could, most likely, push on to Solitude within the next two hours, and reach the city before nightfall, but… Cry wasn't in charge of that sort of thing, either, so she chose to keep her mouth shut.

Vignar had made the right choice, she thought. She watched as the Whiterun part of the party continued on towards Solitude, the jarl at the front, and she wondered if they really needed to waste an entire evening of travel just to go over strategy. That was what they would be doing, too. She knew it, even without having anyone tell her.

She started towards Vilkas, but was intercepted by Faisley, who slid her arm through Cry's, talking extremely fast: "So, I know you're probably exhausted, but Ulfric and Galmar want to talk to you, to decide what you're going to say at the Moot, and whether or not you should outright support him, or just lay low and give your opinion when you're asked for it."

Cry glanced over her shoulder towards Vilkas, who raised his hand in farewell, and turned towards Hainin, who'd just approached him. Vilkas gestured towards where Cry was being led away by Faisley. Hainin turned that way, and his shoulders fell.

"Sister?"

Cry blinked, and turned forward again. "Sorry, what?" she asked, glancing up at Faisley.

"What do you think?"

"About… about what?"

Faisley sighed to herself, and stopped, turning Cry by the shoulders so that she was looking at her. "Still not listening," she said fondly, tapping Cry on the nose. She then slid her hands down until they were gripping her upper arms. "But you need to listen to me now, all right?"

"I am," Cry told her, looking her directly in the eye. "What is it?"

"We all know that you're going to be _vital_ to this vote," Faisley stated, "and we need you to be willing to work with us, all right?"

"When have I said I wouldn't be?" Cry asked, frowning.

"I just know how you can get, when people try to tell you what to do," Faisley said. "I don't want you to do that during this, all right? I need you to promise me that you won't let… _instructions_ get to you."

Cry exhaled slowly, and she managed a smile. "I won't," she said. "I know that this is very important, and I'll do my best to make sure it goes the way it's meant to, whether that means I sit there and say nothing, or…" She trailed off, and found herself biting the inside of her cheek rather than saying outloud that she'd support Ulfric in front of the jarls. Instead, she shrugged, and smiled again. "You know."

Faisley stared at her. "Are you worried that this is going to reflect badly on you?" she asked.

"I…" Cry trailed off again, and she looked down. "Maybe a little."

"Why?" Faisley questioned, frowning.

Cry licked her lips, and glanced off to the side. "I don't want people thinking that I've left them behind," she said quietly. "If I decide to outwardly support Ulfric, I might end up… changing what they think of me, for the worse."

Much to her surprise, Faisley laughed. "Or maybe they'll think that you working closely with the next High King could be good news for them," her sister told her.

"Why would they think that?"

"Because you know what they all want to see happen, and they'll think that you're using your position to make sure those changes occur," Faisley responded. "Really, Sister, this may be the best thing for you, and your 'helping the people' thing."

She moved to Cry's side again, and slid her arm back through hers, continuing on towards the inn. "Obviously, we won't make you do anything you're not comfortable with," she went on without allowing Cry to put in her own opinion on the matter. "We really do hope that you're ready and willing to help, however."

Cry kept her gaze on the ground. "Sure," she replied. "I'll… help in the ways I can, but I won't… do anything that might jeopardize what I'm hoping to build between myself and the people of Skyrim."

"Of course," Faisley said with a nod. "We wouldn't dream of making you do anything of the sort."

She led Cry into the inn, and into the room that she and Ulfric had rented for the evening, free of charge. Ulfric and Galmar were already seated at the table in the corner, and both men were discussing the rolled out parchment that was resting on the table before them.

"Found her," Faisley announced, ushering Cry forward, and plunking her down in the other vacant seat.

"Good," Ulfric said, glancing upwards. "What have you been thinking, when it comes to your position in the Moot?"

Cry glanced from him to Galmar, and then down at her fingernails. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to say anything unless one of the jarls asked for my opinion on something," she replied.

"Then it'd be as though you weren't there at all," Galmar told her.

"Exactly," Cry said under her breath.

"I don't know about sitting back and not saying _anything_ ," Faisley put in. "Perhaps you could interject every so often, when it seems like the discussion isn't going anywhere."

"Interject what?" Galmar asked gruffly. "Praises? She's not going to want to do that."

"What if he needs it?" Faisley queried, pulling up another chair and squeezing her way in between Cry and Ulfric.

"Then I'm sure she'll at least consider it," Ulfric said, obviously seeing the expression on Cry's face. She relaxed a bit, and he dipped his head slightly to her, before looking at Faisley. "I do not want to ask her to do anything she is uncomfortable with."

"She wouldn't be uncomfortable with pointing out good things about you, would you, Sister?" Faisley turned promptly to Cry, who stammered a moment, trying to figure out the best way to respond with a maybe.

Galmar saved her: "How about you say whatever you want to, whenever you want to?" he suggested to Cry, who gave him a grateful look, and nodded in agreement.

"Oh, but what if she says the wrong thing?" Faisley fretted, reaching for the parchment that he and Ulfric had been reading. She examined it on her own for a moment, and then her frown deepened. "What is this?"

"A courier found us as soon as we arrived in Dragon Bridge," Ulfric answered. He nodded to the parchment Faisley was holding. "From Jorleif, wishing to tell us that a battalion of Imperials has set up camp outside Windhelm as a sort of… protest."

Cry blinked. "Really?" she asked, looking from the jarl to Galmar, who nodded and leaned back in his chair with a heavy exhalation.

"Just like them, the cowards. They move in after we've left the city practically defenseless," he grumbled.

"Are… are you going to mention it to the other jarls?" Faisley inquired, and both Galmar and Ulfric looked at her as though she was insane.

"Of course not!"

"We don't want us looking weak!"

Faisley tossed the parchment back onto the table and shrugged. "All right, all right, relax. It was a simple question, that's all."

"A stupid simple question," Galmar muttered, rubbing at an eyebrow.

"Galmar," Ulfric warned.

Galmar glanced at him, and then rolled his eyes and pushed his chair backwards away from the table. "I'm going to get myself a drink," he said. "Anyone else want anything?"

"I'd like a drink, too," Cry said.

"And me," Faisley put in.

Galmar looked at Ulfric once more, and then he nodded. "I'll just bring everyone something," he decided, and left the room.

"So, what are we going to do about the Imperials?" Faisley asked, watching as Ulfric stood as well, taking the parchment with him.

"That's… something you and I need to discuss," he replied, folding the parchment over a few times.

Immediately, Faisley grew defensive. Cry could see it in her posture. "What?" she asked, eyeing the jarl.

"I… may need you to take a dispatch of the Stormcloaks, and travel back to Windhelm in order to deal with it," Ulfric told her without looking up from his folding.

Cry's eyes widened, and she looked over at her sister, whose mouth had fallen open in disbelief.

"You want _me_ to go?"

"I trust you the most with something like this," Ulfric answered, finally turning around. "I need Galmar here, and you know how to talk someone down better than he does besides that."

"But… don't you need _me_ here, too?" Faisley asked him, and Ulfric offered her a look similar to one that Cry received from Vilkas more often than she would have liked.

"I was the one who wanted you to stay in Windhelm. Remember?"

Faisley stared at him without responding, and Ulfric set the parchment down on one of the tables beside the bed before crossing the room back over to her. Slowly, he took her hands in his, and pulled her out of her chair. Then, he slid his hands up her arms, and gripped them gently.

"I need you to do this for me," he said softly.

Cry glanced between them, feeling as though she should not be in the room.

Galmar pushed his way in a moment later, startling all three of them, and Cry quickly jumped up to assist him with his drink load.

When all the drinks were sitting on the table, and Cry and Galmar were doing their best to ignore what was going on between Ulfric and Faisley, the redhead finally nodded, once.

"All right," she murmured. "I'll go."

"Thank you," Ulfric said, sounding relieved. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and then he smiled at her. "You're doing exactly what a queen would do," he finished.

Faisley smiled slightly at this. "I'd best start somewhere," she conceded. "Do you need me gone now or yesterday?"

"I don't think you need to go this instant," Ulfric replied. "Get some rest. You'll need to be gone tomorrow morning as soon as the sun rises."

"Anyone specific you want going with you?" Galmar asked, finishing off his drink and standing. "I'll need to go tell them to prepare for a march back, and I need names, or I'm going to pick who I want to."

"Oh, let me bring Ralof," Faisley said, looking at Ulfric pleadingly.

"Wait, Ralof is here?" Cry asked in surprise. Ralof had been the one to help her escape Helgen, and his family had let her stay with them the night after. "I can't believe I didn't spot him in the procession."

Faisley was looking at her in confusion. "You know Ralof?"

"He was with us in Helgen," Ulfric explained. "I believe he and your sister escaped the city together."

"Oh." Faisley smiled at Cry. "I didn't know that. You should go find him; I'm sure he'd like to talk to you."

"I'd like to talk to him, too," Cry said. She glanced around at everyone. "Are… are we done talking about the Moot, then?"

"For now," Ulfric said with an exhalation. "We'll need to talk more tomorrow, perhaps."

"Fine," Cry said, standing. She looked at Galmar. "I'll come with you to the barracks."

"Let's go, then," Galmar replied. "They're all probably in the middle of eating, and we're going to make 'em mad if we wait any longer."

Cry followed him out of the inn, passing by where Hainin and Nazir were seated at a table, eating dinner of their own. Hainin waved cheerfully at her, and Cry returned it, grinning. Not for the first time, she remembered how happy she was with him being here.

Galmar led the way towards the barracks, where the Stormcloak soldiers and the Whiterun guards had taken up residence for the evening. He pushed open the door, and Cry couldn't help but blink at how crowded the first room was. Soldiers and guards littered it from back wall to door, and Galmar's shoulders raised and lowered as he examined the group.

"Well," he decided after a moment, "there's only one way to do this efficiently."

Before Cry could ask what he meant, he straightened his shoulders and bellowed, " _OI_. Look alive, fellows! I need to talk to you for a minute!"

Immediately, silence fell over the room, and the Stormcloaks all turned their heads towards their commanding officer.

"Good," Galmar said. "Now, there's a bit of a problem we need some men to go with Faisley and solve. It means marching back to Windhelm as soon as the sun's up, but you'll be doing the city a favor."

"What's happened?" one of the soldiers asked.

"The Imperials have decided to protest the Moot, and have set up camp outside the city by way of… blocking our return, or something ridiculous," Galmar explained with a dismissive shrug. "Obviously, we don't plan on killing them, but we don't want Faisley going on a diplomatic mission without any muscle behind her."

It took a moment, but a few of the Stormcloaks raised their hands by way of offering to go, and Galmar nodded to them. "Fifteen or twenty should be fine," he said. "We don't know how many Imperials are waiting for you, but it shouldn't matter."

Galmar went on dealing with picking men, and Cry peered around the barracks, trying to spot her friend. He spotted her, first. His blond head poked up out of the sea of Stormcloaks, and he offered her a big grin.

Cry waved her hand as a gesture for him to join her, and then she slid back outside.

Within a few moments, Ralof had pushed his way outside as well, and he exhaled, glancing back over his shoulder. "Believe it or not," he started, looking at her again, "that's how we always cramp into a room."

Cry laughed. "It's good to see you, Ralof," she told him, reaching out to give him a hug.

Ralof returned it, and then he gestured around Dragon Bridge. "So, you got dragged into this Moot business, too. That's unfortunate."

"It's what happens when you're the Dragonborn, I guess," Cry said with a shrug. "But it doesn't matter. How have you been? Have you visited home since the war ended?"

Ralof smiled a bit. "I think it's safe to say that Windhelm is my home now," he told her. "If you mean Riverwood, yes, I did have the chance, on the way back from Solitude."

"Good!" Cry said, pleased. "How is everyone?"

Ralof lifted one shoulder. "Same as always. Gerdur and Hod are busy with the mill. My nephew is practically a man now, and I mean it this time."

"Is he upset he never got the chance to fight with the Stormcloaks?" Cry asked with a grin.

"I wouldn't say that, but he is determined to join us in Windhelm when he's actually old enough." Ralof shook his head, chuckling. "I don't think the boy understands how cold it is there."

Cry tilted her head. "Are you happy with Windhelm?"

"I'd be lying if I said that I didn't miss Whiterun," Ralof admitted. "It'd be nice to be able to visit more often than I can, but we're in charge of keeping the city safe, now that we're not fighting anymore. I don't know how many city guards they could possibly need, but for now, it's where we are." He grinned again. "When Ulfric becomes High King, however…"

"Right," Cry agreed with a nod. "You'll probably be stationed all over Skyrim."

"I definitely won't be confined to Windhelm," Ralof concluded.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Cry said earnestly. "Faisley asked that you be chosen to go to Windhelm with her, but -"

"Lass! There you are!"

Cry winced, and Ralof frowned. _Of course he'd show up right now_ , Cry thought with an inward groan.

Still, she turned around to face Brynjolf, who was jogging up to them with a wide grin.

"Do you need something?" she asked him as pleasantly as she could manage when he reached them.

Brynjolf reached up a hand and scratched the back of his neck. "Nothing specific, no, but I wanted to see how you were doing."

"That's not really something you have to worry about," Cry said shortly, looking off to the side.

Ralof cleared his throat before things could get too awkward, and she realized that she probably needed to do introductions. "Oh, right. Ralof, this is Brynjolf. He's the second-in-command of the Thieves Guild."

"Good to meet you," Ralof said, offering his hand.

Brynjolf shook it after a moment. "How do you know Cry?"

"We escaped Helgen together," Ralof explained, glancing sideways at the Dragonborn. "And you?"

"I was able to give her some information she came looking for in Riften," Brynjolf responded, dropping his hand.

"Ah." Ralof relaxed a bit. "I'd heard that the other factions were joining us on the journey to Solitude, but I didn't think much on it."

"We decided that being there when the new High King is chosen would be best," Brynjolf said, and he looked at Cry. "After all, the Harbinger of the Companions will be there. Why not the Guild Master and the Listener as well?"

"Fair enough," Ralof decided. "Cry, if you want me to stay with the procession, I will. After all, Faisley isn't High Queen yet."

"Oh, no, you don't have to stay for me," Cry told him. "Really. I mean, Faisley was one of your commanders, wasn't she?"

"She isn't any longer," Ralof stated, and then he shrugged. "I suppose I'll go if she asks nicely."

"Go where?" Brynjolf queried, tilting his head curiously.

"No where," Cry said without looking at him.

Brynjolf did his best to keep his face straight, but her tone hit him directly in his chest with a sharp pain. Clearly, she wanted him to go away.

"All right, well, I guess I'll leave you be," he said softly, and then he smiled at Ralof as best he could. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," Ralof replied, and Brynjolf glanced back over at Cry.

"Sleep well," he said, then he turned and walked away in the direction of the inn.

Ralof watched him go, and then he looked at Cry with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" she queried without meeting his gaze.

"I hope I'm mistaken, but… it seems as though that that man has feelings for you," Ralof responded. Cry didn't react to this, and Ralof sighed to himself. "So I'm not mistaken, then?"

"No," she admitted under her breath, "but I wish you were."

"Need to talk about it with an impartial spectator?" Ralof asked, and Cry finally looked at him.

"Maybe it'd be a good idea, but… you should get some rest, if you're traveling back to Windhelm at first light tomorrow," she said.

Ralof reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "I'll stay."

"No, no," Cry decided. "You should listen to Faisley. I'll… I'll figure it out. Besides, it shouldn't even be a problem for me, because I don't have feeling for _him_."

"Well…" Ralof moved his hand off of her arm, and smile at her. "As long as you're sure about that."

"I am," Cry said with an affirmative nod.

"All right," Ralof stated. "Then it'll be fine." He took her hand and squeezed it. "Try not to get too involved with the next few days' events. You'll go mad long before the Moot even begins."

Cry laughed. "I'll do my best to stay out of as much as possible."

"Good," Ralof said. He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. "I'll see you again soon."

"Be careful on your way back," Cry replied, and then she watched him duck back into the barracks. Galmar emerged from them a moment later, looking pleased with himself. Cry had to grin. "Figure it out?" she asked.

"Yes, thank the Gods," Galmar answered. "Faisley will have a nice battalion to travel back with her."

"Good," Cry said, and she turned, ready to go back to the inn.

Galmar reached out and took her arm before she could. She glanced back at him in confusion, and Galmar lifted an eyebrow at her.

"Are you here to help Ulfric?" he asked her.

"Why else would I be?" Cry questioned, frowning.

"I don't know," Galmar said, "but you don't seem to be very excited about trying to help."

Cry bit her lip. "You noticed." Galmar nodded, and she exhaled. "I'm sorry, Galmar, but… ever since I killed Alduin, I've been trying to… I don't know. Change things."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that… I've been visiting all the holds as much as I can, getting to know the people of Skyrim, letting them get to know me." Cry shrugged one of her shoulders, pulling her arm out of his grip. "I just… I don't want them to think that… I was just doing all of that so they would… I don't know. Follow me blindly wherever I lead them."

Galmar eyed her critically. "You honestly think they would change their opinion of you because of this?" he asked, waving his hand in a vague description of the direction that Solitude lay. "Really?"

"I don't know," Cry murmured. "And I don't really want to find out, either."

Galmar dropped his hand and went back to studying her. "Listen to me," he began after a moment. "You are the Dragonborn. You saved the entire world. If the people of Skyrim decide that they don't like you all of sudden, just because you want a new High King to be chosen, then we have bigger problems."

"They won't hate me because I want a new High King to be chosen," Cry said. "They'll hate me because of who I want chosen."

Galmar shook his head. "Or they'll decide that you having an in with the new High King will be good for them."

"Which it will be," Cry agreed. She rubbed at her arm, glancing downwards. "I just don't know if they'll actually feel that way."

"They will when you start doing good for them," Galmar told her.

Cry gazed at the ground for a moment longer, and then she looked up at him again. "Maybe… maybe I don't have to say anything during the Moot, and I'll just… sit there and wait for someone else to put in Ulfric's name," she said weakly. "And then afterwards, I'll give him support if he needs it."

Galmar raised an eyebrow. "Who told you that you would have to do anything different?" he queried.

"I don't know," Cry said, shrugging uncomfortably.

"Cry."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Faisley seemed to think that I would have to be Ulfric's biggest fan," she said under her breath.

"Oh, Faisley." Galmar shook his head. "She can't tell you what to do anymore, little warrior, even though she is your big sister. You're both grown women, now. You shouldn't take everything she says as an order."

Cry didn't look up, and the old bear sighed. "Don't think that everything Faisley says is exactly what you have to do," he said.

"Fine," Cry replied, softly.

"Well… I'll see you in the morning, then," Galmar concluded, and she nodded in response. She listened as he walked away again, back into the barracks, and then she turned and headed in the direction of the inn.

As she neared it, someone grabbed her wrist from where they crouched in the bushes near the steps. Cry let out a gasp as she was drawn downwards into the bushes as well, and then a hand was clamped over her mouth.

"Don't scream, please," a familiar voice begged. "I just need to speak with you."

Cry jerked out of Brynjolf grasp. "I don't want to speak with _you_ ," she retorted, starting to stand again. Brynjolf didn't let go of her wrist, however, and she was forced to stay put, looking down at him.

Brynjolf gazed up at her with sad green eyes, and she huffed. "Two minutes," she said, yanking her wrist from his hand.

"Why are you treating me like… like nothing?" he asked her, and Cry scowled at him.

"What other way should I treat you?" she demanded. "I allowed you to eat at Jorrvaskr last night, and I didn't try to keep you from traveling with us. I'm being civilized, Brynjolf, which is the best decision for both of us, after what we did."

"But… that night, in the Bee and Barb…" Cry exhaled, looking away, and Brynjolf stood up. "That meant something, didn't it? To the both of us?"

She probably hesitated too long a moment before she said, "No, Bryn, and I don't think you should keep pretending that it did." She looked at him. "Stop trying to speak with me, please," she ordered, and then she turned and hurried up the steps into the inn.

She quickly ducked into the room that she would be sharing with Vilkas, and closed the door, leaning back against it with a heavy exhalation.

"Cry? What's wrong?"

She hadn't realized Vilkas was already in the room, but now she saw him, sitting up in bed and holding a book. He was gazing at her in concern.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, moving away from the door and towards their packs, which had been dropped on the floor near the bed. "Will you help me with my armor?"

Vilkas slid across bed to reach the buckles that she couldn't. Together, the undid the currais, and Cry let it drop to the floor at her feet. She stepped out of it, then turned to poke around in her pack for a fresh tunic to sleep in.

Vilkas watched her do this, his brows furrowed. Cry slid the tunic over her head without glancing at him, but when she was done dressing, she had no excuse.

"Brynjolf caught me outside," she said, yanking off her boots. "He wanted to know why I'm treating him like he's 'nothing'. His word, not mine."

"Do you feel like… you are?" Vilkas questioned after a moment, and Cry looked at him in surprise.

"What does it matter?" she asked, turning her attention to her gauntlets. "He doesn't mean anything to me."

"He must have, at one point," Vilkas replied, and Cry shook his head.

"Not at all," she said. "We spent one night together. That doesn't give me any reason to think about him as anything more than an acquaintance, if I have to think of him as something." She walked around to the side of the bed and pushed him over so that she could lay down. "Are you reading, or can I blow out the candle?"

Vilkas merely continued to frown at her. "Are you sure that's all you're upset about?" he finally queried.

Cry sighed, and leaned back against her pillow, looking up at the ceiling. "Why must you know me so well?" she asked, and Vilkas smiled at that. "No, it's not all," she admitted. "I'm worried about the Moot."

"Why?"

"I'm going to be in the room where it happens," she responded. "I'm going to have to say something to all those jarls, about who I think should lead Skyrim. Everyone we're with expects me to support Ulfric but… what if I can't do that, at risk of losing all of the standing I've made with the jarls, in hopes of making life better for the citizens of Skyrim?"

Vilkas was silent for a moment. "Well," he began at last. "I suppose you'll have to decide whether you want the support of the High King, or the support of the jarls."

Cry sighed, and leaned over to blow out the candle on the bedside table. "I know that," she said, moving under the blanket and cuddling up into his side. "I just wish I didn't have to."

Vilkas chuckled, and placed his arm around her so that she could rest her head on his chest. "That's what comes from being the Dragonborn," he stated.

She snorted in response. "You have no idea."

* * *

 **This part is _so boring_. I want to get to the good stuff! The _fun_ stuff! **

**Even though I wouldn't necessarily call it _fun_ , but... **

**Eh. It's better than this junk.**


	6. The Moot - On the Road Again

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

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 **Yeehaw! We have reviews, ladies and gentlemen and non-binaries! It's super exciting!**

 **Also, I update every Saturday. That's going to be the schedule from now until I decide to change it again because I'm a butthead.**

 **Also, there's a new one-shot starring Cry and the Companions that takes place quite some time in the past. Go check it out if you want; it's titled _A Sharp Decision_. **

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**Review Responses (finally!):**

 **P: Hey! Thank you for leaving me five reviews too look at in succession. I appreciated every single one of them, and I will continue to appreciate every single one you decide to leave on chapters following. Thank you for deciding to read this! I look forward to seeing further reactions to future chapters.**

 **Guest: Hello anonymous friend! I hope you decide to stick around and continue reviewing; it's really fun to be able to talk to people like this before the next chapter starts, y'know? I'll keep an eye out for more reviews from you. And yes, I agree, Vilkas _is_ so in love with Cry, and she is so in love with him. **

**Manu: Oh my LANTA. This is the kind of review I'm looking for! Thank you so much for your analysis of the last few chapters; I was excited to see it. I think you'll come to see that Ziris and Brynjolf's relationship is different from Cry and Vilkas's... a _lot_ different. Hopefully, though, their story won't disappoint you, because it's going to be an interesting one to follow. Hopefully I'll see you again in the reviews for this chapter!**

* * *

 **On the Road Again**

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The following morning, after Cry had actually eaten breakfast (since she'd forgone supper the night before), she and Vilkas emerged from the inn to find the rest of the party already saddling up to continue on to Solitude.

Cry parted from Vilkas as he went to get their horses, and she went over to where Hainin and Nazir were dealing with their own.

"You didn't go and fetch your horse, like you said you would?" she asked, frowning as Hainin struggled to get the saddle onto the poor beast they'd rented.

Nazir shook his head. "Hainin said he was 'too tired from riding all day'," he explained, and Hainin scowled at him from beneath the horse's belly.

" _You_ didn't want me to go get Shadowmere!" he retorted. "So don't try to pretend that you're upset about it."

"Any horse would be better than this one," Nazir muttered, and Cry offered him a pat on the shoulder.

"Just a few hours more, and then you won't even need to look at this one anymore," she assured. "The farmers that live near Solitude rent out their horses; I'm sure they wouldn't mind a trade." She reached up and grabbed their horse's bridle. Almost at once, the beast calmed down, and she ran her hand down it's velvety nose. "This one's a beauty."

"Then you ride it," Hainin stated, standing up straight after finally cinching the saddle belt. He moved around the horse to join her. "Nazir and I will take your tame one."

Cry smiled, and shook her head at him. "I don't think so," she replied. "Here." She reached over and grabbed his hand, placing it on the horse's nose. The horse snorted, and Hainin flinched, but Cry didn't let him move his hand away.

"You just have to treat her nicely," she went on. "See?" She moved Hainin's hand up and down the horse's nose in a stroking motion. "Gently." She then let go of Hainin's hand, and watched as he petted the horse on his own.

The Listener exhaled. "I suppose it's not all bad," he said after a moment, to Nazir.

Nazir merely shook his head, and Cry left the two of them, moving on to Galmar and Ulfric.

"Are we ready, gentlemen?" she asked them, and Galmar glanced at Ulfric.

"As ready as we'll ever be," the jarl replied. "How about you, Dragonborn?"

"I wish you'd call me Cry," she said, and Ulfric smiled.

"Perhaps when you're my sister by marriage," he answered.

Cry offered a noise of agreement. "Did Faisley leave at first light?"

"She did," Galmar replied gruffly, patting his horse's neck. "And with her went twenty men, Ralof included."

"I hope they reach Windhelm safely," Cry said.

"I asked Faisley to send me a letter as soon as they arrive," Ulfric told her, and then he reached for his horse's saddle, in order to swing up into it. "Let's get a move on."

Cry nodded in agreement, and walked away towards where Vilkas waited, sitting on the back of Skjor with the Queen's reins in his hand.

She took them from him, and then climbed into the saddle. Clicking her tongue, she directed Allie down the road, after the procession of soldiers that still remained, who followed behind Ulfric and Galmar.

As they went, Cry glanced around, and smiled to herself when she saw Hainin and Nazir riding safely on the back of their rented horse, Nazir gripping Hainin's waist rather tightly.

She pointed them out to Vilkas, who chuckled in amusement. "At least they don't look like they're about to fall off, as they did yesterday," he commented.

"All Hainin ever needs is a pep talk," Cry replied, earnestly. "Once he's had one, he believes he can do anything, including ride a horse that doesn't like him very much."

"I think it's more than that, don't you?" Vilkas asked, and Cry considered it for a moment, watching Hainin direct the horse without any trouble at all.

"Perhaps there's a bit of skill involved, too," she agreed.

Hainin, meanwhile, was simply happy the horse had yet to try to throw him off. "See?" he began to Nazir. "Cry was right. Gentle."

"I'm glad you've figured it out," Nazir responded apathetically, but there was a small smile on his face all the same. Whenever Hainin managed to overcome something, he was always very proud of himself. Nazir liked to see Hainin like this; proud, but not overly bragging.

He rested his forehead against Hainin's shoulder and considered what he'd seen the night before, when he'd been coming back around the inn after going behind it to take a piss. Brynjolf and Cry had been crouched in the bushes next to the inn's front steps. He hadn't caught any of their conversation, and he could only imagine what it had been about, but he'd seen the look on Brynjolf's face after Cry had gone inside, and… it hadn't been the look of a happy man.

Nazir had been back and forth about telling Hainin this, but now, as they rode at the end of the train of Stormcloaks, he decided that there was no harm in it. Everyone knew what had happened; it was a delicious bit of gossip.

If there was anything Hainin loved more than accomplishing something, it was gossip.

"So… I saw Cry and Brynjolf talking outside the inn last night," he began, lifting his head.

"When you went to take a piss?" Hainin queried.

Nazir deadpanned. "Yes."

"I'll never understand why you don't just use the chamber pot," Hainin continued, and Nazir pressed a hand to his face. "It's not as though they don't _clean_ them."

"That isn't the problem, and you know it," Nazir sighed. "It's the fact that _you_ had gone right before."

"And where's the problem with that?" Hainin asked him, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't want to piss on top of your piss," Nazir replied, growing impatient.

"Why not? You put your -"

"Hainin, did you hear what I said?" Nazir said overtop of him. " _Brynjolf_ and _Cry_ were _talking_ last _night_."

"So?"

"In the _bushes_."

"And?"

"Crouched down, like they were _hiding_."

Hainin didn't respond immediately to this. "And… you think that they might have been talking about… what happened between them?" he finally questioned.

"Yes," Nazir said, glad they had moved past the piss discussion.

"You didn't hear any of the conversation?"

"Regrettably, no," Nazir responded, "but afterwards, Brynjolf looked a bit upset. Cry must've told him off."

"I wouldn't blame her if she did," Haimin decided after another moment. "You know? Obviously, she's moved on. Brynjolf sticking around, most likely just to bother her…" He shook his head. "I'll bet he deserved whatever she told him last night."

Nazir smirked to himself. "It appears you've taken sides," he said, and Hainin shrugged.

"Cry is my friend," he said. "Brynjolf is not."

"That's fair," Nazir agreed.

"And Brynjolf needs to leave her alone," Hainin went on. "She's married, and he's… doing whatever with Ziris."

"I thought we agreed that he didn't actually have feelings for Ziris?" Nazir asked him, and Hainin offered another shrug.

"I mean, if nothing else she's a distraction, and a rather lovely one, don't you think?"

"I suppose," Nazir answered, and then he frowned to himself. "She's not exactly my type."

"Mine either," Hainin admitted, "but… Brynjolf could do worse."

Nazir let out a laugh. "Do we even have a type when it comes to women?"

Hainin thought about it, and then he laughed, too. "I don't think so," he said, thoughtfully, "but… we know what's pretty and what isn't, and Ziris _is_ pretty, just in a different way from Cry."

"Cry." Nazir shook his head tiredly. "You can't compare her to anyone else, Hay."

"I wasn't trying to," Hainin said quickly. "You know what I meant."

Nazir let out a breath. "Yes," he sighed. He was then silent for another moment. "Hainin."

"Hmm?"

"Are you…. attracted to Cry?"

Hainin didn't reply at first, and when he did, there was a hint of teasing in his voice: "What would you do if I said yes?"

Nazir's grip around his waist tightened quite a bit. "I may be tempted to kill her," the Redguard mumbled under his breath.

Hainin let out a chuckle. "You're very possessive," he commented, and then he moved one of his hands off of the reins and placed it over top of Nazir's. "Listen to me," he began. "I don't think I'm attracted to Cry, not in the same way I'm attracted to you."

Nazir frowned. "But you are."

"I think she's very beautiful," Hainin agreed, "and I may even love her." Nazir huffed at that, and Hainin squeezed his hand tighter. "But I am _in_ _love_ with you, Red."

Nazir was silent. For a moment, Hainin worried that he wouldn't respond, but then he spoke, his voice low: "There's a difference?"

"Yes," Hainin assured him, "a _big_ difference."

"All right," Nazir conceded after another moment.

"Are you sure?" Hainin asked him, and the Redguard nodded against his back when he returned his forehead to its previous place against his shoulder. "All right."

Hainin glanced around, trying to locate Brynjolf and Ziris. He spotted them ahead, riding along the side of the group of Stormcloaks. There wasn't any conversation occurring between the two of them, and Hainin noticed that Brynjolf's gaze was Cry, who was riding her own horse on the other side of the road.

"I guess Brynjolf has a thick skull," he said, and Nazir grunted by way of asking why. "He's looking at Cry."

Brynjolf was looking at Cry, hoping she would look at him, but as of yet, she'd remained gazing straight ahead, or looking to her right, to say something to Vilkas.

He refrained from letting out a pained sigh, and turned his gaze forward instead. Ziris, who'd elected to ride in front of him, again, glanced back at him, as though she could sense his odd mood.

"What's the matter?" she asked, frowning in concern.

 _I wish she wouldn't look at me like that_ , Brynjolf thought to himself, even as he shrugged in response to her question. "I didn't sleep very well."

Ziris looked back at him for a moment longer, and then she turned forward once more. "I suppose I could let you sleep in the bed in Solitude's inn," she mumbled.

"You don't need to," Brynjolf said quickly. "I mean… I know you're still upset."

Ziris let out a tired breath. "Maybe," she said, softly. _But also I miss you, sort of, and I wish you weren't acting as closed off as you are_. "It was only one night," she went on, "and it's not like you want another one to happen."

"Right," Brynjolf replied. "Of course not."

"So, you can sleep in the bed again," she told him.

Brynjolf managed a smile. "All right," he said. "If you're sure."

"I am," Ziris concluded after a moment. "That's the last we'll talk about it."

Brynjolf nodded in agreement, and glanced towards Cry once more. She was looking sideways at Vilkas, and Brynjolf watched as she grinned in response to whatever he had said. His heart gave a painful lurch, and he turned away from them both.

The last thing he wanted to do was ruin their marriage, because it was obviously based on love, and a love that was very, very real. All the same, he couldn't let Cry go on with this determination to ignore what had happened between the two of them, because, whatever she said, _that_ had been real, too.

"Are you listening?"

Brynjolf started, and he returned his attention to Ziris, who must have been speaking to him. "No, sorry," he said. "What did you say?"

"I was saying that we'll only stay until the new High King is chosen, and then we should head back to Riften," Ziris repeated, sounding the slightest bit annoyed. "We've already been gone for four days; another week and we'll come back to absolute chaos."

Brynjolf had to admit that she probably had a point. The last time a Guild Master had gone on a trip away from the Guild, they'd found out that the Guild was basically bankrupt, and that the last twenty five years had been based on a horrendous lie.

"That's a good idea," he agreed, and he felt Ziris's surprise.

"Really?" she asked, glancing back at him.

Brynjolf nodded. "We'll leave as soon as the new High King is chosen."

Ziris was silent for a moment, and then she relaxed. "All right," she said, smiling to herself.

In all honesty, she hadn't expected Brynjolf to agree with her so easily. She'd thought he'd put up a fight, give some excuse about why they needed to stay, maybe even go as far as to suggest that they should just travel back with Cry and the others, but not with those exact words.

So, she was happy. Legitimately. Perhaps this meant that she had been wrong to make assumptions about him, and his feelings for the Dragonborn. Maybe Brynjolf was forgetting about Cry, and remembering his loyalties to the Guild were much more important.

Ziris was very, _very_ happy. If she'd had any qualms with her decision to let him sleep in their bed once they reached Solitude, she didn't now. He was acting more like the Brynjolf she knew, and that was the only Brynjolf she wanted.

Even as Ziris was thinking all of this, however, Brynjolf had returned his gaze to Cry, and he was wondering if, maybe, he'd at least be able to convince her to visit Riften more often before he lost her again.

Further ahead, at the front of the procession, Galmar glanced back at his soldiers, before looking sideways at his friend. Ulfric was gazing straight ahead, one of his hands gripping the reins, and the other resting on his thigh. Even from his posture, Galmar could see that Ulfric was thinking hard about something.

He reached over, between their two horses, and tapped Ulfric on the shoulder.

The jarl started, slightly, and looked over at him. "What?"

"What're you thinking about?" Galmar questioned.

Ulfric sighed, and faced forward again. "It's nothing."

"That might work on everyone else, Ulfric, but it doesn't work on me," Galmar informed him. Ulfric didn't respond, and Galmar tilted his head. "What's on your mind?"

Ulfric was silent for a moment, and then he looked at him. "A number of things," he admitted. "I'm worried about Faisley, and the Moot. I worry about the future, one where I am chosen to be High King, and one where I am not." He let out a tired sigh. "There's a lot to worry about, Galmar, and you should know that I am worrying about all of them."

Galmar laughed. He'd never known Ulfric to _not_ worry about anything, and he was used to dealing with it, used to reassuring his friend.

"Well," he began, rolling his shoulders. "You should know, then, that Faisley will handle the issue in Windhelm better than you or I. You should know that the Moot will only end in your favor, if you do what we discussed. And, you should know, that the future in which you are chosen to be High King has only a bright outlook, because you know what must be done to make Skyrim great again."

Ulfric offered him an exhausted smile. "Thank you, old friend," he said. "I am grateful that you always seem to know the right thing to say, and you always try to lift my spirits." Still, though, the look on Ulfric's face did not fade entirely.

Galmar sighed. "Is there more?"

"I do not know if I want to marry Faisley."

Galmar's neck cracked from how quickly he looked at Ulfric. "You _what_?" he demanded, so loud that there was a startled noise from the Stormcloaks directly behind them. Galmar warded their attention away with a look, and then he turned back to Ulfric, who was back to staring straight ahead. "What do you mean, you _don't know_?"

"I mean what I say," Ulfric replied, quietly.

"Why not, then?" Galmar asked him. "Do you not love her?"

"I love her very much."

"Do you not think she would be a good queen?"

"I think she would be the best queen."

"So what's the problem?" Galmar demanded.

Ulfric hesitated a moment before glancing sideways at him. "There are… better choices, politically, don't you agree?"

Galmar snorted. "Politics. Who cares? It's doubtful everyone is going to be happy no matter what, so why try to please anyone? Think of yourself first, Ulfric. You can't lead Skyrim if you're unhappy."

Ulfric shook his head. "I can't lead Skyrim if no one is happy, Galmar."

"But if you marry Faisley, the two of you will be happy," Galmar corrected. "I'll be happy, too. And Cry will be."

"I suppose," Ulfric agreed with a smile, "but is that enough?"

Galmar didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. There was silence between the two of them for a time, and then Ulfric let out a breath.

"Believe me when I say that marrying Faisley is the only thing I was absolutely sure of until we won the war," he said. "Now that there is a real possibility that I am going to lead Skyrim, however…"

"The only reason you don't think you want to marry her now is because you don't think anyone is going to approve?" Galmar asked, and Ulfric nodded in response. Galmar huffed. "That's ridiculous."

"Why do you say so?" Ulfric queried, and Galmar waved his hand.

"You were always going to marry Faisley!" he exclaimed. "It's no secret that if you won, and were chosen by the Moot, that you and Faisley were a package deal!" He shook his head. "Please, Ulfric, don't even _try_ to use that as an excuse. If you're having doubts, it's because of something else, something you're not admitting."

Ulfric didn't reply, and Galmar cleared his throat. "You don't need to talk to me about it, if you don't want to, but you should know that I may be the only one you can talk to, without feeling as though you must hide whatever you actually want to say."

Ulfric offered him a nod. "Perhaps once I admit it to myself… we will speak further," he said.

"I hope so," Galmar replied, "but then again, I don't." He was quiet for a moment, and then he glanced at Ulfric. "Promise me one thing, however."

"What's that?" Ulfric questioned.

"Don't do anything you might regret."

"I wouldn't," the jarl responded, and Galmar nodded.

"All right." He tilted his head to the side, in order to crack his neck. "I'll be glad to be off this horse."

Ulfric smiled in agreement, but already his mind had returned to what it had been on before the conversation had begun. Galmar gazed at him for a moment, and then he returned his attention to the road. Ulfric would figure it out on his own, and if he didn't, he would come to Galmar for advice.

He always did, after all.

* * *

 **I love Nazir and Hainin so much, you guys. That part with the two of them near the beginning of the chapter may be one of the funniest and best things I've ever written.**

 **And again, go check out _A Sharp Decision_ if you want more of Cry before she became savior of Tamriel and was a whelp in the Companions. It's a good one, and a little less than 3,000 words, so you can read it on a bus ride home or to work or school or whatever!**


	7. The Moot - The Start Of Politics

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **The Start of Politics**

* * *

"Good afternoon, Jarl Ulfric." Geimund then turned to Cry. "And it's lovely to see you again, Dragonborn."

"I hope you don't mind us leaving our horses with you," Cry said, and he shook his head.

"Not at all. We already have the other jarls' horses here. Five more isn't any problem at all."

"We appreciate it," Ulfric said, and then he handed Geimund a rather heavy looking coin purse, nodding towards where Hainin was, once again, struggling with his own horse. "If that man asks to trade with you, I'd appreciate it if you would let him."

Geimund glanced up from the contents of the coin purse, and nodded. "Of course, sir. Good luck at the Moot."

"Thank you," Ulfric replied, and then he gestured for Cry to follow him as he walked away. Cry offered Geimund a smile before doing so.

Ulfric led her over to where Galmar stood, addressing a group of Stormcloaks. They waited patiently off to the side until he was done. Galmar finished with his conversation, and the Stormcloaks scurried off. He then turned to the two of them.

"We're all entering the city together?" he checked, and Ulfric nodded.

"I also wanted to invite the two of you to stay in my home, near the Blue Palace, if you haven't made arrangements already," Cry put in as they turned to start out of the farm's yard and towards the road that would take them up to Solitude's gates. Vilkas fell into step at her side.

"That's kind of you, Dragonborn," Ulfric said, nodding to Vilkas, "but we already have a room waiting for us at the Blue Palace."

"Oh, well." Cry shrugged. "If you find you don't like the Palace, my door is open to you."

"Thank you," Ulfric said.

"Did you invite Nazir and Hainin to stay with us?" Vilkas asked her, and Cry blinked.

"I didn't!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe I forgot." She rested a hand on Vilkas's arm and glanced over her shoulder to see if she could spot the two assassins. Hainin was speaking with Geimund, who was nodding in response to whatever he was saying. Nazir stood nearby, a distance away from the horses in the stables.

"I'll be back," she said, and then she left the three men, and went over to where Nazir was.

He glanced at her as she joined him. "Hainin's asking for a trade," he explained.

"Good for him," Cry said. "Would you two like to stay in my home, so that you don't have to pay for a room?"

Nazir looked at her, and she was surprised to see that he didn't look as grateful as she'd thought he would be. Still, despite the look on his face, he nodded. "That's kind of you. Thank you."

"Of course," Cry answered with a smile. She then glanced over her shoulder before looking back at him. "I'd rather you two than Ziris and Brynjolf."

"I'll bet," Nazir replied under his breath, and Cry lost her smile.

"What?" she asked, but before Nazir could say anything, Hainin sauntered over to them, a grin on his face.

"I got a trade," he said, "and I think it was quite a steal."

"Cry's asked us if we want to stay at her house," Nazir told him, and Hainin's grin faltered a bit.

"That's nice of you," he said to Cry. "I didn't know you had a house here."

Cry shrugged her shoulders. "It was offered to me after I did a few things for Jarl Elisif and her court. And she said I couldn't be thane if I didn't have property in the city."

"Well, since you're offering, I don't see why not," Hainin decided after a moment. "It'll save us a bit of coin, and we won't have to be alone in a big city like this."

Cry rolled her eyes, and then she slid her arm through the crook of his elbow, and then Nazir's. "Come on, you two," she said with a laugh. "Let's get inside the big, scary city."

They headed up the road after the first three, leaving the other two guests behind. Brynjolf watched the two assassins and the Dragonborn go while Ziris finished dealing with their horse. When she was done, she joined him, and glanced up at him.

"Do you have gold for the inn?" she asked, and he nodded absently, reaching into a pocket on his tunic. He pulled out a small coin purse, and handed it to her. Ziris hefted it for a moment, and then she looked up at him again. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, of course," Brynjolf replied, finally looking back down at her. He smiled at her, and she smiled back after another moment. "Come on, let's go."

Ziris hesitated a moment before going after him, holding his coin purse in one hand.

Already at the gates, Ulfric was speaking with one of the guards on duty. The Stormcloak soldier that had been stationed in Solitude was greeting his jarl happily, and mentioning how all of the other jarls had arrived the night before.

Cry and the two assassins walked up just as he was saying this, and she visibly blanched. Vilkas noticed, and he moved to stand next to her and offer his support if she decided she needed to faint.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Ulfric sighed, exchanging a glance with Galmar. "Do you know if they all met to discuss anything at any point?"

"No, sir," the guard said with a shake of his head.

"Then I suppose we have that going for us," the jarl said. "Thank you."

"Of course, Jarl Ulfric," the guard responded, and then he turned towards the gates in order to get them open.

"I told you we should've traveled through the night," Galmar muttered to Ulfric. "We would've made it before any of them if we had."

"No sense in dwelling on it, now," Ulfric told him.

The gates opened, and the two headed into the city first. Cry slipped her hand into Vilkas's, who gave hers a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry," he murmured into her ear. "You'll probably be the most comfortable out of all of us, here."

"I know," Cry mumbled back, "and that's partially why I'm worried. I feel like everyone is going to be disappointed to see me walking into the city with…" She nodded towards Ulfric, and Vilkas shook his head.

"Don't say things like that," he said. "Come."

Cry let him pull her through the gates, and she half expected to be greeted by boos and jeers. Nothing of the sort occurred. In fact, the square just inside the city was empty, aside from the beggar that usually squatted outside of Radiant Raiment.

He offered Cry a nod, and she nodded back. Ages ago, she'd gone delving into a Nordic ruin, and recovered his lost helmet for him. Noster Eagle-Eye wasn't a bad man, just down on his luck. She gave him a coin whenever she saw him, but she hadn't been to Solitude in several months.

Now, however, as the rest of the party continued further into the city, she paused beside him, and pressed a Septim into his hand. He smiled at her, grateful.

Cry left him and returned to Vilkas, who'd waited for her. He nodded towards Noster. "Friend of yours?"

"You could say that," Cry answered, taking his hand once more. Together, they followed after the others.

Brynjolf and Ziris had entered the city by now, and they watched the others head off in the direction of the Blue Palace.

"I don't think we need to present ourselves, do you?" Ziris queried, and Brynjolf shook his head.

"Let's just get a room," he suggested, and started for the Winking Skeever.

Hainin and Nazir trailed after the other four that had gone in the direction of the Palace. Hainin was, understandably, acting a bit jumpy. He hadn't been back to Solitude since the failed attempt to kill the Emperor. That had been when all the Oculatus members had been alive, still, however. No one knew Hainin even existed, aside from maybe that cook that had helped him make the poisoned soup, and, if Nazir had to guess, she'd been removed from her position long ago.

So, he rested a hand on Hainin's back. The Listener glanced over at him, and Nazir offered him a look. "Don't worry," he said. "No one knows, I promise."

Hainin let out a breath, and nodded in agreement. "I'm going to ask Cry where her house is, so we don't have to wait for them," he said, and then he moved away from Nazir and jogged forward to where Cry was walking with Vilkas.

"Where's this house of yours?" he asked the Dragonborn.

"Oh, we'll pass it on the way to the Palace," she responded. "I'll point it out to you." She then offered him a look. "But the big bed is ours."

"Of course," Hainin replied, grinning. "Maybe we can take turns?" Cry's expression didn't change, and Hainin laughed. "All right, never mind."

Nazir joined them, and Hainin gestured to him. "Do we get to share a bed?"

"No," Cry said, sounding regretful. "I only have some spare cots folded up in the basement. My housecarl will help you set them up."

"You have a _housecarl_?" Hainin asked in amazement, and they all offered him a look of confusion.

"She's Thane of Solitude," Nazir said.

"Every thane gets a housecarl," Vilkas added.

Hainin glanced between all three of them, and then he crossed his arms. "Well… _excuse_ me for not _knowing_ that."

The others exchanged chuckles, and Hainin huffed at their amusement based on his embarrassment.

"It's all right, Hainin," Cry assured. "When I was first named Thane of Whiterun, I had no idea what a housecarl even _was_."

They continued on, and, a few buildings past the Bards' College, Cry gestured to one with a wave of her hand.

"It's nothing grand," she said to the others, "but it's always good to have a place to stay, you know?"

"I'm sure it's lovely," Nazir said, taking Hainin by the arm. "We'll see you later?"

"Of course," Cry agreed. She produced a key and handed it to him. "Just tell Jordis that you're here with me; she shouldn't try to hurt you."

With that, she and Vilkas kept going, moving a bit quicker in order to catch up with Ulfric and Galmar. Hainin and Nazir exchanged a glance, and then Hainin snatched the key from the Redguard and raced up the stairs to the front door.

"Hey!" Nazir exclaimed in indignation, and he hurried after the Imperial.

Hainin had already gotten the door open, and Nazir stumbled into him, pushing them both to the floor within the house. The two assassins burst into absurd giggles, which were rudely cut off by the sound of a sword being drawn from a scabbard.

"You have two seconds to explain yourselves before I stick you both," a female voice growled.

"We're with your thane!" Nazir said quickly.

There was another moment, and then he was grabbed by the back of his collar and hauled to his feet. Hainin scrambled upwards as well, and they found themselves facing a young woman who was dressed in brown breeches and a light green tunic. She was holding a very sharp looking sword, and her eyes were narrowed.

"What other titles does my thane hold?" she demanded of them.

"Dragonborn, Harbinger of the Companions…" Hainin trailed off. "Also Thane of all the other holds, if I'm not mistaken."

The woman started to lower her blade. "And who is she married to?"

"Vilkas," Nazir supplied. He glanced at Hainin. "I don't think he has a last name."

Jordis slid her weapon away entirely. "From your abrupt arrival," she said, glancing between them and the front door, which was still hanging open, "I would guess that my thane has also arrived in Solitude?"

"Yep," Hainin answered. "She invited us to stay here with her while the Moot is going on."

The housecarl exhaled. "Wonderful," she said. "I am Jordis. They call me the Sword-Maiden."

"Who's 'they'?" Hainin asked, and he let out a puff of air when Nazir elbowed him in the stomach.

"It's lovely to meet you, miss," the Redguard said as Hainin bent over in pain. "My name is Nazir, and this is Hainin. We're good friends of your thane."

Jordis didn't look impressed. "I suppose this means we'll have to set up the cots," she said, turning away from them and moving further into the house. "Do you want to sleep here, on the ground floor, or up in the second-story sitting area?"

"Whichever is easier for you," Nazir called after her, and then he looked at Hainin, who was still hunched over. "Oh, come off it. It didn't hurt that much."

"I know," Hainin said, straightening back up, "but I didn't want to talk to her anymore." He exhaled and glanced around. "I don't know what Cry meant when she said 'it's nothing grand'. This place is huge!"

Nazir allowed himself to look around as well. The front door had opened into a sitting area of sorts, which was adorned with natural lighting and plenty of chairs to sit down in. There was a stairway down the hall a bit, and it led both up and down.

"It is rather nice," the Redguard admitted, moving to take a seat in one of the chairs. "I bet it cost a lot of money."

"How much, do you think?" Hainin questioned, joining him.

"Stand alone, or with all these upgrades?" Nazir asked, and Hainin shrugged.

"Both?"

"I'd say the house itself cost at least 25,000. And by the time she was done sprucing it up, she'd spent maybe 7,000 more," Nazir answered, glancing around again. "I wonder what the upstairs looks like."

"I'd suggest we investigate, but I don't think the Sword-Maiden would take kindly to that," Hainin responded.

"Maybe we should go help her?"

Hainin frowned at the suggestion. "I think she'd just get pissed," he decided. "We'll wait until she comes for us."

Nazir sighed to himself, but settled back into the chair nonetheless. "All right."

While the two assassins were busy relaxing in Cry's home, Cry and the three men she'd been left with reached the Blue Palace, and were shuffled inside by the guards that had been posted by the doors.

Unsurprisingly, they weren't greeted by anyone. Cry assumed it was because all of the other jarls had arrived hours prior, or even the night before. Still, it was easy to feel a bit… disregarded, although Ulfric hid his ill feelings rather well, if he had any.

"You'd think the steward would be here, at least," Galmar muttered under his breath, and Ulfric shook his head at him.

"We came into this expecting less," the jarl said. "I'm surprised we were even let into the city."

"We probably wouldn't have been, had there been a _Solitude_ guard outside, rather than one of ours," Galmar responded sourly.

Cry exhaled, but she didn't say anything. She knew that Jarl Elisif was probably extremely busy, having to host all of the jarls of Skyrim, and she was most likely with one of the others, making sure they were comfortable in their room.

She'd appear where they were waiting in the throne hall as soon as she could.

Still, she did have to wonder where Falk Firebeard was. He rarely left Elisif's side, that was true, but Cry would've thought that, with the Palace so full, Elisif would've asked him to remain in the throne hall to welcome newcomers, and deal with normal court things while she was off handling all the jarls and whatever company they had brought.

As though her thoughts had summoned him, Falk himself appeared from the hallway leading out of the throne room, looking flustered. He took one look at the new arrivals, and a flash of at least four different emotions went across his face before an impassive smile settled itself there, and he bowed to them.

"Jarl Ulfric, Dragonborn," he said, straightening up. "Welcome to Solitude."

"Thank you, Falk," Cry said before Ulfric could speak. She didn't look at the jarl as she stepped forward and held out her hand towards Falk. "You've been well, I hope. No other problems with ghost queens?"

A stronger, more meaningful smile appeared on Falk's face, and he shook her hand. "No other problems with ghost queens," he assured, letting her hand go again. "I'm glad you decided to join us for the Moot."

"Yes, well… I wasn't given much of a choice, was I?" Cry asked him. "In fact, I'm sorely tempted to up and leave."

Falk glanced sideways at Ulfric and Galmar. Cry, however, didn't bother, and instead she queried, "Is Jarl Elisif busy with her other guests?"

"Ah, yes," Falk said, realizing she wanted to change the subject. "She is currently having an early lunch with the other jarls."

"All of them?" Galmar asked gruffly, and Falk looked at him.

"Yes," he said, calmly. "She asked me to come see if Jarl Ulfric had arrived at last, and to ask if he wanted to join them." He turned to Ulfric. "We will, of course, take care of your things."

"Yes," Ulfric responded after a moment. "I will join them immediately."

Falk bowed to him, and then he looked at Cry. "I am sure you're invited as well, if you'd like, Dragonborn," he said.

Cry merely offered him a thin smile. "I think I'll pass."

"As you wish," the steward said, not sounding surprised. "Well, if you'd like to leave your things, here, Jarl Ulfric, I will take you to the dining hall, and then have someone take them to your provided bedchamber."

"I think I can handle that, if you just point me in the right direction," Galmar injected, taking Ulfric's pack from him.

Falk glanced between the two of them, his smile not leaving his face. "As you wish," he said, and then he gestured towards the hall. "Just down the hall. It'll be the last bedchamber. All the others are already occupied."

Galmar grunted, and shuffled off. Falk then turned to Ulfric again. "If you would follow me?"

Ulfric looked at Cry. "We may need to speak later," he said to her, and she dipped her head.

"Just send a message."

Ulfric nodded, and then turned and followed Falk out of the throne room.

Once they were alone, Cry let out a breath and leaned heavily against Vilkas, who chuckled.

"Shall we go see what trouble Hainin and Nazir are causing?" he asked her.

"Oh, yes please," Cry said immediately. "I could use a bit of entertainment."

* * *

 **See? Stuff's starting to get good, now.**

 **I'm very tempted to write a FanFiction about Cry's story, y'know? Like the stuff that happens during the game? I just... I've already written her one story, and I thought I was going to limit myself to one big story per OC and then have this one, and little one-shots scattered sporadically all over the place.**

 **But I feel like a story about Cry is necessary before we get to the end of this long story with all of the characters.**

 ***sigh* I'm going to end up flipping a coin. I can feel it. I just have so many other things that I'm working on, currently, including _college_... **

**I don't know. I'll figure it out. If you have an opinion you want to voice, and you have good backing to that opinion, let me know in the reviews, or DM me. Whatever you wanna do. I need some help making this decision. I don't want to write something nobody wants or needs, y'know?**


	8. The Moot - A Walk and a Talk

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Nina: Hi! Good to hear from you, and to know that you're enjoying the story! Keep checkin' in, all right?**

 **Guest: A puppy, huh? That's interesting. I think you'll like what I give them even better. ;)**

 **Other Guest (Maybe): Thank you! Keep reading and enjoying!**

 **Manu: I love your analysises of the chapters, my friend. You're really makin' my day with each one. You're pretty on the nose with a lot of what you've said, but you'll have to keep reading to find out for sure!**

* * *

 **A Walk and a Talk**

* * *

Unfortunately, Hainin and Nazir weren't doing much by way of entertainment. In fact, they were busy trying to set up the cots that Jordis had brought to them from downstairs. Hainin, who'd never had to set up a cot once in his entire life, was struggling, badly.

Nazir, who'd never had any problem with sleeping on the ground, in the snow, wasn't even bothering with his.

When Hainin had snapped his fingers in the cot for the third time as it folded in on him, the Redguard let out a heavy sigh.

"Perhaps we should ask Jordis for help?" he suggested.

"No," Hainin said, his face set. "I'm going to do it on my own."

Nazir rolled his eyes, and returned his attention to a book he'd plucked off a shelf.

Hainin attempted, for a fourth time, to pry open the cot, and set it up in front of him. Once again, it snapped closed before he could hook the latch that would keep it upright. He managed to pull his hand away just in time, and he let out a haughty snort.

"See?" he asked Nazir. "I'm getting there."

"Uh-huh," Nazir agreed absently, his gaze not leaving his book. "You're doing a great job."

Hainin, not paying attention to him, either, struggled to pull open his cot again.

At that moment, the front door of the house opened, and Cry and Vilkas walked into Proudspire Manor to the sound of Hainin's loud curse.

"Uh oh," Cry said, looking at Vilkas. "Sounds like he's trying to set up his cot on his own."

She hurried up the stairs to the sitting room on the second floor, Vilkas coming after her. Indeed, she found Hainin squatting on the floor next to one of the fold out cots, his hand stuck in it. Nazir was lounging in a chair nearby, reading a book and not paying any mind to his Listener.

"Hainin, you can't… put one of those up single-handedly," Cry sighed, moving over to help him. She opened it wide enough for him to retrieve his hand, and then Vilkas stepped forward to help her actually set the cot up. With each of them holding one end, they pulled it out to full length, and then Cry reached beneath it and hooked the latch, holding her end with her other hand.

And, just like that, the cot was set up.

Cry stepped back, and looked at Hainin, who was scowling already. "I don't want to hear it," he grumbled, and then he moved to lay on the cot, nursing his hand.

Cry smiled to herself, and looked at Nazir, whose cot didn't appear to have been opened at all. She gestured toward it, and Vilkas nodded. Together, they set up Nazir's cot as well, and Cry nudged it next to Hainin's with her boot.

"There," she said. "You're welcome." She looked at Nazir again. "What are you reading?"

"I don't know," the Redguard responded, absently.

Cry exchanged another look with Vilkas as there was the sound of feet climbing the stairs. Jordis appeared at the top of them, grinning.

"Hello, my Thane," she greeted brightly. "Wonderful to see you."

"Hi, Jordis," Cry returned. She gestured towards the cots. "Thank you for bringing these upstairs for our guests."

Jordis dipped her head. "Of course, my Thane," she replied, and then she looked at Vilkas. "Hello, sir."

"Jordis," Vilkas replied, nodding to her.

Hainin was still nursing his hand, but he glanced up long enough to ask, "How'd the meeting with the higher ups go?"

"There wasn't one," Cry answered, going over to a shelf against one wall and plucking a small red potion off of it. She carried it over to Hainin, who took it with his free hand, frowning at her.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, pulling the cork from the bottle with his teeth.

"I mean that Jarl Elisif wasn't present when we arrived at the Blue Palace," Cry explained. She looked at Vilkas, smiling slightly. "She was busy having lunch with all the other jarls."

Hainin snickered while Nazir smirked. "I'll bet Jarl Ulfric was happy to hear that," he said, watching Hainin upend the healing potion into his mouth.

"He went to join them," Vilkas said, and Hainin shook his head, lowering the potion.

"What choice did he have? Could he really decide to just skip the lunch and join them all for a friendly dinner?"

"Probably wouldn't have been the smartest decision, but it might have been the least embarrassing," Cry said, sinking down into a chair of her own, dropping her things on the floor as she did so.

Vilkas scooped them up and carted them off into the bedroom off the stairs, the only one in the house. Cry looked at the assassins. "Do you want anything to drink or eat? I have mead and ale stowed away downstairs, and -"

"That's all right, Cry," Nazir said. "You don't need to fuss over us."

"But you're my guests," Cry replied. "Are you sure?"

"We can take care of ourselves," Hainin assured her, shaking out his hand, which no doubt felt better after that potion.

"Right," Cry agreed, smiling again. "You took good care of that hand on your own, after all."

Hainin made a face while Nazir grinned, and then said, "And tomorrow? How are you coping with the imminent arrival of that?"

Cry hesitated a moment, and then raised and lowered her shoulders. "I'm not looking forward to it," she said, "but, like you said, its imminent, so… I'm coping."

Nazir shook his head. "You'll be all right," he told her. "Just sit there and speak when you're spoken to." He indicated Hainin. "It works for him most of the time."

There was a knock on the door downstairs, and Jordis started to go to answer it, but Cry stood and shook her head. "I'll get it."

She moved down the stairs and went to the door. Pulling it open, she was not surprised to see Brynjolf standing on the other side of it.

Sighing, she crossed her arms and gazed at him. "How did you find out where my house is?"

"Asked the barkeep," Brynjolf replied. "Wasn't difficult."

Cry glanced around, and then she leaned towards him. "All right, you listen to me, thief," she began. "I do not want you to come traipsing around my home. I don't want you to pretend like everything is just fine. It's not, and it won't be, ever, if you keep… acting like it is." She leaned back again. "I'd like to try a friendship with you, Brynjolf. I would. But I can't, if you don't bury whatever feelings you have for me and act like there's a bar that has to hold them back."

Brynjolf gazed at her for a moment, and then he smiled. "You're much easier to speak with in the daylight."

"You're infuriating," Cry informed him, doing her best to ignore the grin, but unable to stop herself from returning it. "Where's Ziris?"

"She went to poke around Radiant Raiment, see if there's anything worth taking from there," Brynjolf replied. "I told her it was pointless; those elves are always sitting behind the counter, keeping an eye on every person who comes into the shop."

He met Cry's eyes, his own glimmering. "I came by to ask if you wanted to take a walk." Cry started to decline, but Brynjolf pushed on, "You can bring your housecarl, of course. Just… don't bring Hainin. I don't think we could talk properly with him along."

Cry was ready to decline, to say that she'd rather stay at home for the rest of the day, and prepare herself for the Moot, but something about his expression made her hesitate. She thought that, maybe, taking a walk and talking with Brynjolf might smooth some things over. And she wouldn't even have to be alone with him.

So, she nodded, once. "Let me go get Jordis, and then we can go," she said, and then turned and walked back into the house, calling for her housecarl as she did so.

Jordis peered down at her from the upper floor. "Tell Vilkas you and I are taking a walk, and that we'll be back in a little while," Cry said.

Jordis looked confused for a moment, but then nodded and disappeared. Cry waited, listening to the indistinct murmurs coming from the upper floor, and then to the sound of boots coming down the stairs.

"We're taking a walk, my Thane?" Jordis asked curiously, joining her on the main floor.

"Well, sort of. You're going to keep an eye on me while I take a walk," Cry explained, heading outside again. Jordis followed, closing the door to Proudspire behind her, then turning around. She paused at the sight of Brynjolf, who smiled warmly at her.

"Brynjolf, second-in-command of the Thieves Guild," he said, bowing to her. "I'll wager a guess that you're Jordis."

"My Thane?" Jordis asked after a moment, looking at Cry, who gestured towards Brynjolf with her head.

"Brynjolf asked me to walk with him, and I told him I would, but I'd feel better if you were to follow us," she explained. "Just close enough to protect me, if need be."

Jordis looked at Brynjolf again, and then leaned towards Cry, to whisper in her ear: "Is he dangerous?"

Cry smiled slightly at the question and shook her head in response. Nonetheless, Jordis's hand rested on the hilt of her sword, and she nodded to Brynjolf.

Brynjolf grinned back, and then turned to Cry. "Shall we?" he asked, holding out his arm.

Cry ignored it, and started walking away from them. Brynjolf cleared his throat and went after her, aware of Jordis following at a slower pace.

He caught up with Cry and gestured around. "Solitude's a lovely place, isn't it?" he commented conversationally, and Cry shrugged.

"I suppose it's all right. Too close to the water, for my taste, and the smell from the Warehouse is something I could do without."

Brynjolf guessed that she was coming up with complaints to make things difficult for him, but he wasn't going to be deterred so easily. He was determined for her to be on speaking terms with him, at least, if he could achieve nothing else.

"Thank you for agreeing to this," he said. "I just want you to feel like you can trust me as much as you did… before."

"I didn't trust you, Bryn," Cry said plainly. "I just needed to tell someone who I was, and you were the one I chose." She glanced sideways at him. "And that's only because you probably weren't going to let me get away with not telling you."

Brynjolf smiled cheerfully. "You're probably right."

The walked along in silence until they reached the end of the residential part of Solitude, and were near the city square. Cry glanced around.

"I was here, once, two years ago, I think, right after I returned to Skyrim," she began after a moment. "I was here the day they executed the young guard who opened the gates for Ulfric Stormcloak. So was Ziris, and Hainin. It was the second time we were all together again, somewhere." Cry smiled benignly. "Hainin wanted to kill me that day, but he didn't."

"How many times did he try to kill you?" Brynjolf queried.

"Well… he only _tried_ to kill me twice, I think," Cry said. "He came after me with the _intention_ to kill four times."

"And what do you think stopped him?"

Cry glanced at him, grinning. "Destiny?"

"Oh, we're back to that, are we?" Brynjolf asked. They reached the city gates and turned back around to go back the way they came. "Are you still going to pretend that you're from Aetherius?"

"You're the one who said you'd believe me," Cry reminded him, laughing. "I was just making a joke."

"Well…" Brynjolf shrugged. "You didn't give me any reason to doubt it."

More silence after that, and this time, it was a bit uncomfortable. Cry broke it as they neared the Bards College, and stopped to listen to the drummer that was standing outside, playing.

"Why did you believe me, when I told you I was the Dragonborn?" she asked him. "You didn't have any reason to."

"I didn't think it was something someone would lie about," Brynjolf told her. "Who wants to be the only person that can kill a dragon permanently?"

"Many people, those who seek honor and glory," Cry said.

Brynjolf snorted. "Only idiots seek honor and glory."

Cry glanced up at him. "You think so?"

Brynjolf exhaled. "The people who seek honor and glory are… probably less fearful of death, which, in my opinion, makes them idiots."

"You fear death?" Cry asked, frowning, and Brynjolf glanced down at her.

"Don't you?"

"I've been to Sovngarde, Bryn," Cry said, slowly. "I've… I've seen what waits on the other side. And… it's beautiful, and peaceful." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't know where you'll end up, but for the _idiots_ who seek honor and glory…" She glanced upwards at the sky. "Something amazing waits."

She then pulled several Septims from a pouch on her armor and handed them to the bard, who smiled at her. Cry nodded back, and moved away from the College, back towards Proudspire.

Brynjolf stayed where he was, watching as Jordis passed him by and hurried after her thane. He then let out a sigh and turned away, walking back to the city square and the inn.

Cry pushed her way back into Proudspire just as Jordis caught up with her. "Thank you for coming with me," she said.

"Of course, my Thane," Jordis responded. "It was no trouble."

Cry smiled and watched Jordis disappear downstairs, before she exhaled and closed the door behind her.

"Cry?"

"Yep!" she answered, glancing upwards towards the second floor. "We're back!"

Vilkas was peering over the ledge of the second floor, and Hainin appeared beside him after a moment. "Vilkas said that you have a hidden room somewhere," he blurted, and Vilkas scowled at him for a moment before looking at Cry again.

"No, I did not," he said to her.

Cry smiled and started up the stairs towards them. "And what do you think is hidden in this secret room, Hainin?" she queried as she walked.

"I don't know. Endless piles of gold? A stash of Tamriel's finest wine?" Hainin shrugged as she reached the second floor. "It could be anything."

Cry looked at Vilkas, who had his gaze turned to the ceiling. "I'm sorry to tell you, Hainin, but I do not have a hidden room anywhere in Proudspire," she said.

"Damn," Hainin sighed, but he was grinning. "There goes my plan for tomorrow."

Nazir appeared from the bedroom, eyeing Hainin. "You promised we'd have something to do," he said.

"Well, I'm sorry, but we'll have to figure something else out," Hainin responded.

"Vilkas can show you around Solitude, if you want," Cry said. "I'd do it, but I have a stupid meeting to go to, in case nobody's heard, yet."

"We've heard," all three told her at the same time.

Cry crossed her arms. "All right," she said, frowning. "I was only trying to make a joke."

"We know," Hainin said, "but if you're still thinking that you have to go, then we don't want to hear it."

"What?" Cry asked, staring at him.

"Do you actually have to go? I mean, what are you going to do? Sit there?" Hainin shrugged. "It just seems optional, to me."

Cry didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything. Instead, she shook her head to herself. "Is anyone hungry? I'm hungry."

She started down the stairs again, and she heard Vilkas follow her, but, if she had to guess, not because he was hungry, too.

He leaned against the wall and watched as she went through the small store of food that Jordis had purchased for herself, since Cry was never actually around, and finally settled on an apple.

"What?" she asked.

"Are you all right?" he questioned, and she exhaled before shaking her head.

"I still don't know what to do," she admitted, quietly, "and I probably still won't know, come tomorrow."

"So why do anything?" Vilkas asked. "Just don't go."

Cry shook her head and took another bite of her apple. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I just want to relax for the rest of today. Is that all right?"

"Of course it is," Vilkas said. He moved over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Anything I can do to help you relax?"

Cry smiled as he nudged his nose into the curve of her neck. "Not with Hainin and Nazir awake and active," she replied, "but maybe you'll have a chance to help later tonight."

"Mm, I'll keep that in mind," Vilkas murmured, and then he kissed her neck, gently. Cry tilted her head until it rested against his.

"I should finish my apple," she whispered after a moment.

"Right," Vilkas sighed, resting his forehead against her shoulder. "I'll let you do that."

He moved away from her and exited the kitchen. Cry continued eating her apple, stopping only when there was another knock on the front door.

She exhaled to herself, almost certain that it was Brynjolf, again.

"I'm not going on another walk with you," she started, opening the door. "Oh."

"Going on another walk with who?" Galmar asked, pushing his way into the house.

"No one," Cry said quickly, closing the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Ulfric sent me to tell you that we want to have another meeting before the Moot tomorrow," Galmar explained.

"Oh," Cry sighed. "Good. All right. We can meet here, if you want."

"That might be the best option," Galmar responded. "I'll tell him you said it's all right."

"All right," Cry said. "Anything else?"

"No, that was it." Galmar was gazing around the entrance hall. "This is a really nice house. How'd you afford it?"

"Just… helping out around Solitude. It was a long, arduous process," Cry said, waving her hand. "Nothing you want to hear about."

"Uh-huh." Galmar crossed his arms, and looked at her again, scrutinizingly. "Eight o'clock sound fine?"

"Sure," Cry said, moving to open the front door. "I'll tell everyone else to scatter so that they don't hear any of the strategy."

Galmar immediately frowned. "You think they'd tell someone?"

Cry looked upwards. "Why does no one ever seem to understand when I'm telling a joke?" she sighed to herself, closing her eyes.

"Sorry, I'll leave you," Galmar said, uncrossing his arms and walking out the door. "See you tonight."

"Whatever you say, Galmar," Cry responded tiredly, and then she swung the door shut before leaning her forehead against it. "I can't do this. I cannot."

"Can't do what?" She jumped at the inquiry, and turned to see Nazir standing behind her, holding an apple of his own.

"Just… this whole Moot thing," Cry told him.

"Ah." He held up the apple. "It's all right if I eat this?"

"Yes, of course," Cry said, and Nazir tossed the apple into the air, catching it neatly.

"Thank you."

He marched off, back up the stairs, and Cry returned her forehead to the front door, to further lengthen the time spent on her self-pity.

Hainin was watching her from the second floor, and as Nazir came traipsing back up the stairs, he asked, "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing," Nazir answered, and then he took a bite out of his apple. "She's just thinking through everything, I believe."

He moved to settled down on one of the cots, while Hainin went back to watching Cry, and wishing he could do something to help her.

* * *

 **I have a question for everyone! What's your _least_ favorite song? I know that's not a good question, but what can I say? I'm negative. **

**Anyhow, you know that song that's like _"It's too late to apologiiiiize. It's too laaaaaate_."?**

 **Yeah, I hate that song. It makes me want to... dig my own grave and bury myself in it.**

 **It's also two weeks until semester finals, in case you couldn't tell from my terrible attitude.**


	9. The Moot

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **I wrote this chapter backwards. I had a plan for the last half, but it was too short to be a chapter on it's own, so I just added stuff onto it until it was long enough. So, there's that.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: I love you so much! You're the sweetest, and I appreciate the good wishes. My finals are on Tuesday, so we'll see how that goes!**

 **Another Guest: Here's more, on the scheduled day! Sorry I couldn't upload earlier; I don't want to give away too much too quickly, y'know? Since this is the "last" installment of this... uh... universe? Story line? I don't know... I want it to last, so new chapters every Saturday, with gaps between one part and the next. Hope you stick around!**

 **P: You have it write, my friend! Originally, I wasn't going to put the characters in the same universe, but then I was like, "But that'd make it a lot more interesting!", so I did it, and I think it's going pretty stinkin' well!**

* * *

 **The Moot**

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"Have I told you yet how much I appreciate the fact that you have a house in the city?"

Cry glanced over at Vilkas, who was laying with his head propped up on his hand, watching her get dressed. She considered his question for a moment, and then she shook her head, smiling.

"No, I don't think you have," she replied.

"Well, I do appreciate it," he told her, and then he sat up and gestured for her to come over to where he lay. She did so after finishing pulling her dress up over her slip. She settled down on the edge of the bed, and Vilkas scooted over to help tie up the back of it. "And this dress is lovely."

"Thank you," she said with a chuckle. "I figured I might as well do my best. Not every day you get to be in a room with all of the jarls in Skyrim."

Vilkas paused in his business of kissing her shoulder while doing up her dress, and he leaned back a bit. "You don't sound very excited."

"I'm not," Cry replied. She shook her head, and pulled her hair over her shoulder in order to braid it while he finished with her dress. "I don't… I don't want to sit in that room and listen to a bunch of Nords yell at one another all day. We both know that's what's going to happen."

"Maybe not," Vilkas said, finishing with the laces. He wrapped his arms around her, and rested his chin against her head. "Maybe it will be over within an hour."

Cry snorted. "I doubt it." She sighed to herself and finished with her braid, leaning back against him. "I wish I didn't have to be a part of it. I feel like… anything I say while I'm in that room is going to be taken wrong, by everyone."

"Well, that's doubtful," Vilkas said.

"You think so?"

"I think it'd be hard for _everyone_ to disagree with something you say," Vilkas told her, and Cry turned her head in order for him to see her frustrated glare. He smiled, and placed a kiss against her forehead. "It won't be as bad as you're making it out," he said. "I promise."

Cry gazed at him, and winced. "You think it'll be worse?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes, and pushed her off the bed. Cry rose to her feet, and turned around to face him. Vilkas took her hands, and spread her arms so that he could take in her appearance from head to foot. After a moment, he frowned, and gestured to her hair. "Something else."

"I was just getting it out of the way," she said under her breath, moving away to use the looking glass that was hanging over the dressing table in one corner of the room. She undid the braid, and shook her hair out, then turned her head from side to side, wondering what could be done to it to make it at least appear under control.

"You can always just… pull it back," Vilkas suggested from where he remained on the bed.

"That's not appropriate," she decided after testing it out using her hands. She brought her hair forward over her shoulders instead, and furrowed her brows as she examined it.

She shook her head in annoyance, and threw up her hands. "There's no use!" she decided, falling into the chair sitting before the table. She rested her elbows on top of it, and put her forehead in her hands. "I'm not going."

"Then don't," Vilkas responded.

Cry looked over at him, saw he was being completely serious, and she let out a laugh.

"What? It's an option," Vilkas said, sliding off the bed and walking across the room to where she was sitting.

"No," she murmured, lifting her head. She watched him approach in the looking glass, and rest his hands on her shoulders. She shook her head, and put one of her hands over his. "No, it really isn't."

Vilkas met her eyes in the reflection, and then he gave her a small nod. "You're right," he said. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Cry responded, turning in her chair so that she could actually look up at him. "I wish you were the one who was right."

She leaned up a bit so that he would kiss her, and he did, gently, but not without a hint of encouragement. She smiled throughout it, and when he pulled away, she reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek.

"Thank you," she said.

Vilkas merely turned his head and kissed her palm in response.

There was a knock on the door, and Cry glanced over at it. "Yes?" she asked, loud enough to be heard through it.

"Jarl Ulfric is here, my Thane," Jordis called. "He wants to know if you're ready to go."

Cry turned her gaze back to Vilkas, who winked at her, and backed away, returning to the bed.

Cry rose from her seat and crossed the room to the door. She pulled it open, and smiled at her housecarl.

"I guess I am," she told her, and then followed Jordis out of the room, pulling her hair back into its normal style as she did so.

They found Ulfric waiting in the sitting room, and he gazed her over for a moment before he nodded.

"Ready?"

"I suppose," Cry responded.

"Then let's get this over with," the jarl decided, heading for the front door.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Jordis asked, following them to the door.

"I don't think you'll be allowed in the room, so it makes sense for you to stay here," Cry told her. "Maybe you could… show Vilkas and the others around Solitude?"

Jordis bowed to her. "As you say, my Thane." She then turned to Ulfric, and bowed to him as well. "Good luck, Jarl Ulfric."

"Thank you, Jordis," Ulfric said, offering Cry his hand. "I may need it."

Cry took his hand, and he slid hers to the crook of his elbow, then led her away from Proudspire Manor, and towards the Blue Palace, which was waiting rather ominously in the distance.

As they went, Cry considered all that she and the others had talked about, in regards to the Moot. They'd decided it be best if Cry only offered her input if it was asked for, and Cry was very happy about that. She didn't think that outwardly declaring her support was very smart, for her or Ulfric, and she was glad the others had agreed after some convincing.

They neared the Palace, and she stopped moving just before they could pass through the first archway. Ulfric moved away to speak with a guard that immediately recognized him, leaving Cry to gaze up at the Palace in fear.

She'd never been so afraid to go inside the castle than she was at that moment. She was… she knew Jarl Elisif, was a thane in her court. She had a friendly relationship with her, because she'd taken Torygg's horn to the Shrine of Talos in Whiterun Hold, because Elisif couldn't do it herself.

Could… could she really go in there and tell the other jarls that she thought Ulfric would make a better ruler than Elisif?

"Dragonborn." She jumped a bit when a hand touched her arm, and she turned to see Ulfric standing beside her, giving her a curious look. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she said quickly. "I'm… perfectly fine." She forced a smile. "Do you think everyone else is already inside?"

"Probably. Come." Ulfric started for the doors, and Cry followed him after another moment of hesitation.

They found Falk Firebeard waiting for them, and he smiled warmly when he saw Cry. "Dragonborn," he greeted, bowing slightly. "Glad to see you didn't actually run off."

"Well, I didn't think it ideal, considering I'd already traveled all the way here," she replied, managing another grin. Falk let out a laugh, and Cry relaxed a bit. She didn't give Falk enough credit. He understood how ridiculous this whole thing was, too.

Unfortunately, they were both being dragged into it.

"They're all waiting for you," Falk went on, directing this to Ulfric.

Ulfric nodded, and gestured for Falk to lead the way, which he did without a second look. Cry took the place behind the two of them, so that she was the last one to enter the meeting room where the Moot was being held, and she was also the last one to spot an… uninvited guest.

"Hello, Dragonborn," Balgruuf said, eyeing her closely as she moved to settle down in one of the seats at the table. "I wish I could say I was surprised to see you here, but frankly I'm not."

"Good to see you, too," she responded as serenely as she could manage against the obvious distaste in his own statement.

"I'll ask you one more time… why are you here, Balgruuf?" Vignar questioned, sliding into the seat next to her. "You're not a jarl anymore."

"Jarl Elisif has been kind enough to let my household and myself stay here until we can settle into the… new Skyrim." Balgruuf turned his gaze to Vignar instead. "And you? How are you settling into your duties?"

"More easily than you'd expect," Vignar replied easily. "I believe that I was made for the job."

Cry pursed her lips and struggled to keep from making any noises. Vignar was, very obviously, trying to rile Balgruuf, probably because Balgruuf wasn't hiding his disgust at seeing them again. Cry didn't understand why Balgruuf had it out for her, considering she hadn't helped the Stormcloaks take Whiterun. In fact, she'd tried to keep a fight from occurring at all.

"I also believe that… this conversation will need to resume _after_ the Moot," Vignar went on, giving Balgruuf a pointed look.

"No, I believe we all need to discuss something before we can start the Moot," Elisif said from where she already sat at the head of the table, a very clear sign of what she felt her position was with them all in her home. "I've heard that the Guild Master of the Thieves Guild and the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood are here in my city." She turned to Ulfric, an eyebrow raised. "And I've heard that they arrived with you."

"They did," Ulfric confirmed.

"You brought the leaders of the two other factions with you?" Jarl Korir of Winterhold looked up from his goblet of wine, and frowned at him. "Why?"

"They wanted to come along," Ulfric said. "It was not something I could say no too."

"And you aren't worried about their presence in the city during a time such as this?" Jarl Dengeir of Falkreath demanded.

"No," Ulfric said, sitting down on Cry's other side. "Why should I be?"

"Why are they here?" Jarl Laila Law-Giver from Riften inquired.

"I'll tell you why," Jarl Elisif declared, sitting up straighter in her chair. "Ulfric probably wanted to point out that the factions support him, too, and rub his victory in the Imperials' faces even further."

"As I've already mentioned," Ulfric began, offering Elisif a patient look, "they wanted to come along. I did not invite them." He nodded to Balgruuf. "I believe we will be beginning shortly."

Balgruuf stared at him for a moment, and then he turned his glower to Cry again. "Fine," he said shortly. "Please avoid taking all day. I'm sure the citizens of Skyrim are very excited to learn who their new ruler will be." With that, he turned and left the room, Falk closing the door heavily behind them both.

Relieved to be free from Balgruuf's gaze, Cry relaxed a bit, and glanced around the room. It was a simple meeting room, complete with the long table that everyone was now seated at. Large windows let in light from the eastern side of the room, and she was reminded of just how early in the day it was. The Moot could go on as long as they liked, and hopefully, they'd still have plenty of daylight left before it was over.

She turned her attention to everyone present. All the jarls from each of the nine holds were sitting around the table, with varying expressions on their faces. Some looked like they wanted to get through this meeting as quickly as possible, like Jarl Skald of Dawnstar. Others looked prepared to wait all day for a decision to be made, like Jarl Sorli of Morthal.

Cry did her best to hide her sudden uncertainty as she took in all of them. She hadn't expected the Moot to be over and done with within ten minutes, but she also hadn't expected so many of the jarls to look ready to debate the topic of the next ruler of Skyrim. She'd assumed at least seven of them would be on Ulfric's side.

From the expressions on some of their faces, however, she could maybe count two that were for sure voting for him, and one of them was Vignar.

 _Damn_ , Cry thought, sliding a bit lower in her chair. _This is going to be harder than we thought_.

"What about you, Dragonborn?"

She looked over at Jarl Thongvor of Markarth. "Me?"

"Can you explain what the other factions are doing here?" he inquired.

Immediately, the gazes of all the jarls were on her, and Cry looked around at them, licking her lips.

"Well… they'd all heard about it, and I suppose they wanted to come along and see who the Moot chose, so that they'd know what to expect for the future."

Relief flooded through her when there were a few contented murmurs from the jarls, and she relaxed a bit further into her seat. They knew she was there, and willing to offer her input. If anyone wanted it, she would give it to them, but other than that, she'd sit back and wait.

After all, she imagined that putting in a few words when they weren't wanted would only anger a room full of Nords. She'd dealt with angry Nords before, and she did not want to deal with angry Nords who were also jarls. That would be an immediate destruction of her position in each of the holds, and she couldn't afford to lose it, not when she was beginning to formulate her plan for improving life for people. She'd need all the support from the jarls she could get, and offering an opinion that they maybe didn't agree with would be a sure way to get rid of it.

So, she looked around at all the jarls, wondering who was going to start the Moot off.

A few minutes of silence passed over the room of leaders. Cry wondered how a group of people who could get very hotheaded could remain quiet about a matter such as who would lead them for so long.

After a time, however, Vignar cleared his throat from where he sat beside her.

"Well, no sense in putting this off any longer, is there?" he questioned, glancing around at everyone else. He placed his hand on the table, and nodded towards Ulfric. "I put forward Ulfric Stormcloak's name, as the name of our next High King."

 _One_ , Cry thought, looking around at all the others.

"Hear, hear," Jarl Skald agreed, nodding.

 _Two_.

"Of course, his two closest allies," Jarl Sorli muttered under her breath to Elisif, and then she raised her voice: "I put forward Elisif the Fair's name, as the name of our next High Queen."

 _And… there it goes, out the window_. Cry slid down in her seat.

There wasn't any approval after Sorli's statement, although there was a collective shift from everyone in the room.

"Why would you do that?" Skald demanded of her. "This was supposed to be quick and easy, not drawn out by pettiness!"

"There is nothing petty about putting forward Jarl Elisif's name, Skald," Jarl Korir said soothingly. "She was High Queen when Torygg was King…"

"Damn that!" Thongvor shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. He pointed at Sorli. "I knew from the start that you were a sodding Imperial and Thalmor supporter!"

"I support no one but whoever I believe will serve my country the best!" Sorli retorted just as loudly.

Cry sank further down in her seat, wanting to get as far away from this as possible, already. _I'm never going to make it to the end_.

"When Ulfric won the war, it was made clear who should be running Skyrim!" Skald declared.

"Aye," Jarl Dengeir agreed, "it seemed to be that way, I'll give you that. But, think, all of you, for one moment. Do we really want to be led by someone who will immediately take us to war with the Thalmor?"

"Exactly!" Sorli rose from her seat. "We do not want to enter another war so soon after finishing this one." She looked towards where Ulfric was seated. "You may have brought Skyrim out of war, but I will not sit by and watch you plunge it into another one."

Cry glanced at Ulfric to see his reaction. He seemed to be remaining impassive, although he nodded in response to Sorli's statement.

"You would let us sit under the boot of those damned elves for another ten or twenty years?" Thongvor growled, eyes narrowed at the three jarls that had seemed to go against Ulfric.

"We would let us heal, and wait for the right moment," Korir said, unmoved by the rage. "Some of us feel that maybe it would be best to put someone in charge that would be willing to wait for that opportune moment."

"And you think it's her?" Skald pointed a finger at Elisif. "She wouldn't attack the Thalmor even if _they'd_ been the ones to kill her husband!" He scowled at her. "Can't find it within her to go against the damn _puppet masters_."

"Do not dare accuse me of choosing to let the Thalmor make decisions for Skyrim," Elisif snarled, more ferociously than Cry had thought her capable. "It's because the _Empire_ signed that _sodding_ contract with them!"

"Exactly," Jarl Laila said, putting in her input for the first time from where she'd been sitting quietly at the end of the table. "We're part of the Empire, and… we have to listen to what they say, whether we like it or not. It's for the good of Skyrim, and all our people."

"Something that, under Ulfric's rule, may change!" Vignar exclaimed. "Haven't we all agreed, for a long time, that Skyrim should no longer live beneath the rule of those that do not even know what is happening here?"

"If we left the Empire, we'd lose _everything_ ," Dengeir stated. "Of that, I have no doubt." He glanced around, and then leaned forward in his seat, as though he didn't want anyone else hearing what he was about to say. "There may be problems, but they do support us, ladies and gentlemen."

"But we would be free! Free as we were when the Nords first settled these lands," Skald told him. "Don't we all long for those days again? Days when Skyrim was free to make its own decisions? By putting a clear supporter of the Imperials back onto the throne, we'd be facing the Empire and the Thalmor with our asses up."

Elisif's nose wrinkled from the crudeness of this statement, and she glared at him. "Ulfric's victory in the war proved that we do not want to suffer under their rule any longer," she said.

"And putting Elisif on the throne would be a symbol of peace," Dengeir put in. "That's all I've wanted for Skyrim, for many years now." He looked around the room at all the other jarls. "Can't we all, as Nords, agree that peace is what we've been striving for?"

"No!" Thongvor stood up quickly, knocking his chair over from the force. "I want to see _change_."

That just started a mess of more shouts about who would bring about the most effective and reasonable change. The room shook with them.

Cry didn't know what to think of all this. She sank even further down in her seat, practically under the table now. She didn't want to be in the room anymore, she decided. Maybe, with all the yelling, she'd be able to get up and leave…

A heavy hand fell down on the table top, making it rattle, and she shot upright in surprise as everyone else went silent. All eyes fixed on Ulfric, who'd been the one to drop his hand down on the table. He slowly stood up from his seat, and looked around at everyone.

"I put forward Cry Silverworthy's name, as the name of our next High Queen," he said, and Cry's heart fell into her stomach.

 _Divines help me_ , she thought as all the gazes turned to her instead.

* * *

 **Oh shit! Drama! Talk about _spilling the tea_. **

**I don't know what I'm saying. I'm sick, which is no good, since finals are _fast approaching good lord._**

 **I think I'll do okay, but... we'll just have to cross our fingers and see, won't we?**


	10. The Moot - Reactions

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **Hey guys. So, this chapter's pretty short, like under 3,000 words, which is typically the minimum for me when I'm writing chapters, but I figured what the hell, I just finished up my first college finals, and I just got back home for winter break, and I don't feel like writing another one hundred words, so I just left it the way it was.**

 **Hope that doesn't make any of you mad... I still love all of you!**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: You could say she's shook. I'd be shook. I'd be so shook, I could be a mixed drink.**

 **P: Vilkas is the best. I love him quite a lot. And thank you for your strength; I needed it this week.**

* * *

 **Reactions**

* * *

"And here we have the town square," Jordis said, gesturing with both arms.

Hainin cast a disinterested look around. "Why do they call it a square when it's not actually a square?" he asked.

Jordis let out a patient breath through her nose. "I don't know," she responded. "That's not part of my expertise."

"Huh." Hainin looked at Nazir, who sighed to himself, but nodded in agreement. Hainin grinned, and turned to Jordis. "Nazir and I are going to take a look around for ourselves, if you don't mind."

"I can't tell you what to do," Jordis responded dryly.

Without waiting for further comment, Hainin grabbed Nazir's hand and they raced away from Jordis and Vilkas, who was studying the ground.

He glanced up when they disappeared, however, and looked around. "Where -?"

"To kill someone, maybe," Jordis replied, tilting her head as she took him in. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Yes," Vilkas answered, but his gaze was focused on the Blue Palace, barely visible in the distance. "How long do you think the Moot will take, Jordis?"

"Well, that's hard to say, sir," she said, frowning. "I suppose it all depends on how quickly everyone can agree with one another, and, knowing that everyone in that room is a Nord, it will probably take a while."

Vilkas attempted a smile, but it wasn't very convincing. He was worried, if he was being honest. He didn't know why, exactly, but within the time since Cry had left Proudspire, something had… changed. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like it.

"Would you like to talk about it, whatever it is?" Jordis asked, and Vilkas glanced at her. "Housecarls aren't just assigned to protect. We can offer advice, too."

"You're not my housecarl," Vilkas said, and she smiled.

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't protect you. You are my Thane's husband, so I serve you, too, in a sense."

It was Vilkas's turn to smile. "What a strange feeling, to know someone is in your employ, but only because they want to be."

"It's part of my constitution," Jordis explained with a shrug. She then glanced around. "There really isn't much else to see."

"You can go back to Proudspire, then, if you like," Vilkas told her.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I think I'll be able to find my way back."

"All right," Jordis responded. "I suppose I'll see you later, then."

Vilkas nodded to her, and the housecarl turned and started back through Solitude. He watched her go, and then turned towards the Winking Skeever. Something similar to anger burned in his chest, and he started towards the inn.

Inside, Brynjolf and Ziris were just finishing their late breakfast. Brynjolf was gazing towards the door, not paying attention to it, really, but that didn't stop him from noticing when Vilkas stormed through it and stalked right over to the table where he and Ziris were sitting.

"Vilkas…" Brynjolf started, standing up from his chair. "Easy, lad. You don't want to do anything stupid."

"Oh, I can think of at least four stupid things I wouldn't mind doing," Vilks growled, moving closer.

Brynjolf put up his hands, smiling. "I imagine that you know what happened."

Vilkas didn't back down. "Yes, I know. And I know that you've been bothering my wife since we left Whiterun."

"Bothering her?" Brynjolf asked, glancing at Ziris to gather her reaction. She was watching the two of them, still seated, and her eyes were narrowed, though he didn't know if it was because of Vilkas, or himself. "I… spoke to her, once, but she didn't want to talk for long, so I let her go."

"She didn't want to talk to you at all!" Vilkas exploded. He then leaned up and shoved a finger in Brynjolf's face. "You leave Cry alone, understand? She doesn't want anything to do with you, so don't try to convince her otherwise. She has too many things to worry about without you adding to that list."

Brynjolf pushed his finger away. "Fine," he responded dryly. "I won't "bother her"."

"You best keep to that, or you'll have me to answer to," Vilkas said, darkly, and then he turned and stalked out of the inn.

When he was gone, Brynjolf lowered himself back into his chair with a sigh. He didn't look at Ziris, but it didn't take long for her to put her hand down, rather sharply, on the table.

"You _spoke_ to her, when she didn't want you to?"

Brynjolf glanced at her, and saw the fire in her eyes. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, other than the truth.

"Two nights ago, I caught her outside of the inn in Dragon Bridge," he said. "She didn't want to talk, it's true, but I just wanted to clear the air between us." He hesitated. "I think we did, so we don't have anything else to worry about."

Ziris continued to glare. "Is that really all you talked about?"

" _Yes_ ," Brynjolf replied, patiently. "We also took a walk through the city, yesterday, but we didn't discuss much."

"What _did_ you discuss?"

Brynjolf looked away. "As I said, nothing important."

Ziris let out a breath through her nose, but didn't respond. Instead, she pushed her chair away from the table with an angry scrape and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Brynjolf called after her.

"Nowhere _important_ ," came her retort from over her shoulder.

Brynjolf huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn't handle these women and their mood swings. It was too much for him.

"Brynjolf." He glanced up at his name, and saw Nazir crossing the inn towards where he sat. He took Ziris's vacated chair. "Where's your lady?"

"Off sulking," Brynjolf answered with a shrug. "She's not happy that we're here."

"So tell her she can go home," Nazir suggested.

"I would, but I doubt she'd leave," Brynjolf responded. "She'd probably think I wanted her to go because of Cry."

"Do you?"

Brynjolf looked at him. "Do I what?"

"Want her to go because of Cry?"

"No, not at all," Brynjolf told him after a moment. "Why would I?"

"Brynjolf," Nazir began, and then he smiled at him. "We both know that Cry isn't bad to look at. Even I think so, and the only thing I've ever been attracted to is a mouthy Imperial." He tilted his head. "No one blames you for being attracted to Cry."

"But I'm not."

"Brynjolf," Nazir said, again, and the thief didn't try to argue, this time. "It's all right. You can admit it. To me, at least. I understand."

"Do you?"

"Hainin told me he loves her," Nazir explained, and then he shrugged his shoulders. "It seems to be an effect she has on men, one that she doesn't realize she has."

"And it doesn't… bother you?" Brynjolf asked, frowning.

Nazir shrugged again. "Not particularly, since I know he'd never act on it, because, believe it or not, Hainin does, in fact, like men more than women." He exhaled. "I imagine, however, that it might be more difficult for you."

"Maybe just a bit," Brynjolf agreed, and then he settled his head down on top of his arms. "What is it about her?"

"I don't know," Nazir replied honestly. "I mean, she's obviously very beautiful, but so is Ziris. They're just beautiful in different ways." He exhaled. "I wish I could help more."

"Me, too," Brynjolf sighed, and he raised his head, pushing his chair away from the table. "I guess I'd better go sulk somewhere, too. I'll be seeing you."

Nazir watched him walk off, and then the Redguard moved out of his own chair and returned outside of the inn, where he found Hainin lurking.

"What are you doing?" he asked, coming to a pause next to where the Listener was poorly hidden behind a barrel.

"Hush!" Hainin hissed, and then he grabbed Nazir's arm and pulled him around the barrel to hide with him. "Look!"

He pointed, and Nazir followed his finger in time to see Cry come around the corner into the main square of Solitude, looking downcast and worried. She glanced around for a moment before moving right past where they were hiding and ducking into the inn.

"What was _that_?" Hainin asked sharply, rising, and Nazir did the same.

"I don't know, but she didn't look happy, did she?" He frowned at the door of the inn for a moment, and then his eyes went wide and he sucked in a sharp breath. "You don't think…?"

"What? No!" Hainin responded immediately. "Cry would never. Brynjolf might, but not Cry." He hesitated. "Besides… she looked too upset to have been hurrying away to a romantic rendezvous."

"Perhaps we should go inside, just to make sure," Nazir suggested after a moment of silence during which they both gazed at the door.

"Good idea," Hainin agreed immediately, and he darted towards the door.

Nazir followed, and hurried into the inn after the Imperial, quickly ducking behind a pillar in order to avoid being seen.

"What do you see?" he whispered to Hainin, who had a better view of the rest of the inn.

"Cry's just sitting at the bar, alone, drinking," he said, sounding relieved. "Maybe the Moot didn't go very well."

"It's possible," Nazir replied. "Should we go speak to her?"

"No!" Hainin said immediately. "I don't want her to know I was spying on her."

"You were?"

"Just… for a little while." He shrugged absently. "I saw her leave the Palace, and I thought she looked pretty distraught, so I followed her, to see where she would go, because I didn't think that the Moot could've been _that_ short."

Nazir hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what happened."

"She'll tell us, I'm sure, once we see her at Proudspire," Hainin told him. "Come on; she obviously needs to drink in peace for a little while."

Hainin moved towards the door of the inn, again, and Nazir lingered behind to gaze at Cry for a moment longer before following.

Cry, who'd noticed the two assassins hiding behind the barrel as she'd entered the inn, heard them leave, and she shook her head to herself before taking a rather long drink of mead.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the King's Moot?" the barkeep asked, giving her a once over.

"We took a brief recess," Cry mumbled, more to the mug rather than to him. "Things got a bit ugly."

"Ah." The barkeep looked away, feigning disinterest. "Any idea when we'll have the final decision?"

"Tomorrow at the latest," Cry sighed, picking up her mug and moving away from the bar. She'd gone as far from the Palace as she could, without leaving Solitude, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk about why she'd gone as far away as possible.

After Ulfric had put her name out into the open, absolute chaos had broken loose. It had only been quelled when Jarl Vignar had smashed a vase against the table, and shouted that they all needed a break for an hour or so.

Cry, however, had no intentions of going back. The last thing she needed was to hear the jarls argue about _her_. How was it that she, who hadn't even wanted to go to the Moot in the first place, was suddenly in the running to be the High Queen of Skyrim?

She sat down heavily at a table for two.

 _How would that even work?_ she asked herself, taking another deep swallow of mead. She didn't have a castle to act as her outpost. Would she take over for one of the current jarls, since the High King or Queen was always the jarl of whatever city they were stationed in, too?

 _I didn't want this_ , she thought wearily, placing her head down on her arms.

"Funnily enough, I was seated exactly the same way not ten minutes ago."

"Having a bad day, too?" Cry asked, and she heard Brynjolf settle down in the chair opposite her.

"I wouldn't say that," he sighed, "just a rough late morning." He tilted his head as he took her in. "Why do you think your day is going to continue being bad? Clearly you must be done with the Moot, if you're here." He glanced at her mug. "Although, from the deep drinking, and the lack of celebration, I'm going to assume that it didn't end well."

"It hasn't ended at all," Cry muttered. "We're just taking a break. Someone said something idiotic, and it caused an explosion of sorts."

"Ah, so you all parted ways to gather your thoughts?" Cry nodded, lifting her head at last. "How long do you have until you have to go back?"

"I'm not going back."

Brynjolf frowned. "That bad?"

"You could say that," Cry answered dryly. She finished off her mug and pushed her chair away from the table. "Well, since we both know how you and I plus a bar and alcohol ends, I'm going to head home. Hopefully, they won't come looking for me."

"Wait, you're not going to tell me what happened?" Brynjolf asked before she could walk away.

"You'll hear about it soon enough, I'm sure," Cry told him from over her shoulder, and then she was out of the inn, and on her way to Proudspire, where Vilkas waited for her, and she could easily vent to Vilkas, and count on him to comfort her in return.

Indeed, there he was, relaxing on their bed in the single bedroom of the house, reading a book. He glanced up at her arrival, took one look, and immediately set the book down.

"What's happened?" he asked, starting to climb off the bed. "Did they vote?" Cry shook her head, and Vilkas hesitated a few steps away from her. "Then…?"

"We took a recess, but I'm not going back," Cry told him. She stepped forward, placing herself in his arms. Vilkas didn't argue, merely held her close, resting his chin against her head. "Ulfric did something incredibly stupid, Vilkas."

"What did he do?"

Cry explained it all to him. By the time she was done, Vilkas was standing stock still. His hands, which had previously been stroking up and down her back, were nonmoving.

"I don't know what went through his mind," Cry concluded. "He must have been planning to do it prior to the start of the Moot, but I don't understand _why_."

"So… there's a chance that you may be voted High Queen," Vilkas said.

Cry frowned into his shoulder. "I'm an option, yes, but… I honestly don't believe anyone will vote for me."

"Jarl Elisif will, and so will Ulfric, simply because they refuse to vote for one another," Vilkas told her. "Vignar may vote for you, too, as a joke. Or perhaps because he knows of your leadership skills." Cry didn't respond, and Vilkas let out a breath. "It's extremely possible you may be chosen to be the next High Queen of Skyrim. You understand that, don't you?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Cry demanded, suddenly very angry. She pushed away from him and stalked across the room, glowering at the floor. "I didn't even want to go to the damn Moot, and now I'm in the running to be the overarching ruler of the damn country!"

"Cry -"

"Vilkas, I - I can't be High Queen," she said, covering her face with her hands. "I wouldn't be able to do it. I'd… I'd ruin everything, for everyone." She cursed darkly and kicked at the chair in front of the dressing table. "Why did Ulfric have to do that?"

Vilkas didn't have an answer for her, and so he didn't reply. Cry was silent for a moment, her shoulders moving up and down rather rapidly.

At last, she lowered her hands, and looked at him. "What am I going to do?" she whispered, her eyes red from crying.

"Can you take your name out of the running?" Vilkas asked, taking a step towards her.

"Only the person who put your name in can retract it," Cry answered, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, "and Ulfric is too stubborn to do that, especially since it means he won't have to vote for Elisif."

"You think that's the only reason he did it?"

Cry nodded, and allowed him to pull her back into his arms. "Why else? He wants to be High King, right? Why would he risk losing that, other than to ensure his own pride, by blatantly refusing to vote for Elisif? And the only way he could do that would be by voting for someone else: me."

Vilkas exhaled, and squeezed her a bit tighter. "Cry, listen to me. Whatever happens, we will get through it, all right? You and I, together, because I would never leave you alone to deal with anything, especially not something like this."

Cry slowly relaxed, and actually reached around to return his hug, her love for Vilkas shooting sky-high. "Thank you," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder.

* * *

 **I know that this is incredibly unlikely, but I'd like it if, if I ever get married, my husband was as great as Vilkas.**

 **I don't plan on getting married, but if I do, I'd like for my husband to be like Vilkas.**

 **Okay, that's all.**

 **P.S., final chapter next week, and then some fun trivia about this first part of the final story in the tale of my Skyrim-verse, and _then_** **a two week break for the holidays! Fun stuff!**


	11. Moot - The Final Decision, and Then Some

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or any of the characters and/or plot lines associated with it.**

* * *

 **All right! So, this is the last chapter of the first part of this story, and then sometime later this week (probably Saturday) I'll post some trivia that I came up with once I finished writing the part. It isn't anything super interesting; just some fun tidbits about specific parts of the story.**

 **Check if out if you're interested, and if not, I'll see you in two weeks!**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: Thank you! I'm doing my best! It's actually kind of boring, being on break, at home, when you literally have no friends in your home town to hang out with, but that's all right! I'm writing, and that's what matters to me!**

 **P: Gosh golly gee I love your long reviews. Everything you've said about Vilkas is completely true, I think. He's very wise, and definitely better suited for Cry than Brynjolf is. Bryn's too flaky, and Cry needs someone steady at her side, considering how crazy her wild her life is. Vilkas is the perfect fit for that position.**

* * *

 **The Final Decision, and Then Some**

* * *

"Are you going to do it, or not?"

Nazir pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and paced around in a circle. "I don't know. I don't know if I can."

"What do you mean?" the cloaked, and hooded, figure standing before him demanded. "You're an _assassin_. Isn't it your job to kill people?"

"Yes, technically," Nazir answered dryly.

"So what makes this person any different?"

"I know her," Nazir stated, lowering his hands. "Hainin is very good friends with her. She _saved the world_." He scowled. "Those are just a few things."

The figure sighed in exasperation. "You told me that you'd do it, with no qualms, and no hesitation. From what I'm seeing, you suddenly have all kinds of qualms, and you've been hesitating since you reached Whiterun." They pointed a finger at him. "Do it, Nazir. Consider what we can do to Hainin, and the rest of the Brotherhood."

"You wouldn't," Nazir said lowly, and the figure crossed their arms.

"Don't tempt us, and we won't have to."

With that, they turned and stalked off, cloak billowing out behind them. Nazir watched them go, and then he hung his head.

Before he could reflect and debate, however, Hainin appeared, looking worried.

"Where have you been?" he asked, grabbing Nazir's arm tightly.

"Uh, here?" Nazir tried to pry Hainin's death grip off, but it wasn't budging.

"Cry needs to talk to us. I think it might be about whatever happened yesterday," Hainin said, pulling on Nazir's arm. "Come on."

Nazir let Hainin drag him out of the alley that he'd met the cloaked figure in. "How did you find me?" he asked, frowning.

"Does it matter? I'm always able to find you," Hainin answered dismissively. "Hurry up."

Hainin pulled him along to Proudspire, where they found Cry and Vilkas waiting for them.

"All right, we're here," Hainin said, plopping Nazir down in one chair, and then settling down in another. "What happened?"

Cry glanced at Vilkas, who offered her an encouraging nod. She exhaled, and looked at Hainin and Nazir. "Yesterday, at the Moot, Ulfric put my name forward."

There was silence.

Nazir, who knew exactly what she meant, had gone cold. Now they wanted her to be _High Queen_? Oh no, the others weren't going to like this whatsoever. He'd definitely have to take care of what he was supposed to do, sooner rather than later.

Hainin, however, was frowning, looking confused. "And… does that mean you're High Queen?"

Cry smiled slightly. "No," she told him. "It just means that the other jarls can vote for me, if they want to." She exhaled. "I just figured I'd tell you both, before it actually happens."

"Oh." Hainin let out a puff of air. "Gods, you scared me. I thought you were going to tell us that someone wanted you dead, or something."

Cry actually laughed at that. "I'm sure someone _does_ want me dead, considering you never actually killed me for whoever your client was," she said, "but, as of right now, no one is making an active attempt on my life, so you can relax a little, I think."

Nazir had gone tense, funnily enough. This was not good news, not at all. Not only was Cry possibly about to enter an even _higher_ power position, but now he had no reason not to do what the others wanted him to do.

 _Damn, damn, and triple damn_ , he thought to himself as he watched Hainin and Cry begin arguing over something. He was going to just have to do it. To get it over with.

So, when everyone stood up to head to the Blue Palace, for what would, hopefully, be the final decision of the King's Moot, he lingered behind.

"Are you going to be able to stand with us?" Vilkas asked Cry as the two of them walked along behind Hainin.

"No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I have to stand with the jarls." Cry answered with a sad sigh. "I wish I didn't have to stand up there, where everyone can look at me, but… I don't think I have a choice."

Vilkas exhaled, but put an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. "You'll be fine," he assured her.

Cry smiled. "You sound so sure."

"It's because I am."

They'd reached the Palace, and, already, Cry could hear the voices of what was most likely everybody in Solitude standing inside, waiting for the final decision to begin.

Hainin offered her a grin, and a wink, and then he disappeared inside.

Cry let out a slow breath, and reached for Vilkas's hand, squeezing it tightly.

He smiled, and lifted her hand, kissing it. "You'll be fine," he said again. "I'll see you when it's over."

Cry nodded, and let him go, letting her hand linger in his for as long as possible. Sooner rather than later, however, she lost her grip on him, and he disappeared into the Palace.

Cry swallowed thickly, and paced around for a moment. Surprisingly, there were no guards standing outside, as there usually were. No doubt they were all inside too, just as excited to hear the final decision as everyone else.

She didn't want to go inside, yet. She knew they wouldn't start until she was there, and she figured that if she refused to go inside, then maybe they'd decide that they didn't want to vote for her after all.

She studied the ground as she paced back and forth, murmuring under her breath. She didn't know if she'd have to give a speech, or anything like that, but she figured it was better to be prepared.

"The Dragonborn is caught off guard." Cry's head shot upright at the voice, and she blanched when she turned and saw a cloaked figure approaching her, a rather sharp dagger in one of his gloved hands. "Pity. I'd thought you'd be a harder target than this."

Cry backed up against one of the Palace's stone pillars, watching as her attacker advanced. She didn't know what there was to do, other than put up her hands, and try to talk this through.

"I don't… I don't know who you are, or who put you up to this, if anyone, but… I promise you that you don't want to kill me," she said, softly.

"I don't," the figure replied, this time speaking in a voice she thought she recognized, "but you've alluded assassination for too long."

Cry's gaze darted towards the dagger he held in his gloved hand. "You don't seem very adept with that type of blade," she said. "Not your usual weapon?"

The figure faltered in his steady advance towards her. "Do you know who I am?"

"I could take a few guesses," Cry replied, "based on what I've seen and heard."

"Damn." The figure sighed, and lowered his dagger. "Cry, please, you need to understand. This… I didn't want to do this." He dropped the dagger to the stone pathway. "But… I wasn't given any other choice. They said they'd… they'd do something to him, once I started expressing my doubts."

"Who's they?" Cry asked, reaching out with her foot and kicking the dagger further away. "Tell me that, and we can forget this happened." The figure remained silent, and Cry took a step towards him. "Nazir?"

Nazir sighed, and reached up to pull down his hood and mask. "I'm so sorry," he said, quietly. "There are people who would do anything to see you killed, Cry, and they thought I might be their best option, before Ulfric was picked to be High King."

"It's fine, really, you're an assassin, they would've chosen an assassin to kill me, right?" Cry looked him in the eye. "It says so much that you chose not to do it, Nazir, really, but I need to know who wants me dead."

Nazir shook his head. "I can't say, Cry," he said. "They've been threatening Hainin, and he's the most important thing in the world to me. I can't lose him, or put him in an even more dangerous position." He then let out a breath. "But… I can tell you that you should be careful of who you trust. There are people that you know you that… might not be who you think they are."

"But you won't tell me who they are exactly," Cry concluded.

"Do you want Hainin dead?" Nazir retorted. "Because of mistakes I've made? Because of whatever you've done to make these people want you dead?"

"No, of course not, but if you tell me, maybe we can attack these people before they attack him!" Cry exclaimed.

Nazir hesitated for a moment, and then he looked down. "No," he said. "I'm sorry, Cry, but I can't risk it. And, if I were to tell you, then Hainin would know what I was going to do, and… he would never forgive me."

"At least tell me if any of them are here in Solitude," Cry begged. "Nazir, please."

"I only know the person who contacted me about it," Nazir said, "and they're not here in Solitude. Not anymore, at least."

"But there's more than one?"

"They made it seem like there was a network, yes," Nazir answered, "which is why I didn't want to go against them. They seem to be very powerful, and I wouldn't put it past them to try again, once they recruit more assassins."

"Well… at least I might be expecting it, next time," Cry said, unable to keep the scorn out of her voice.

"Cry, I really am sorry," Nazir said. "I told them no, before we left Dawnstar for Whiterun, but then… Hainin started saying things to me and it made me really angry, and I started to think that killing you was a good choice." He shook his head. "I'll never be able to forgive myself, and I won't blame you if you never forgive me, either."

He then looked at her. "But… I won't stop trying to make it up to you. Whatever you need, whenever, I'll be there for you."

Cry stared at him for a long time without speaking. Then, she said, stonily, "I'm only going to forgive you for Hainin's sake. But I won't forget what you just told me, so… don't think I will."

"I won't," Nazir said, quickly. "Believe me. And… thank you for forgiving me so easily." He exhaled. "I know that I should be arrested, or even killed myself."

"Well…" Cry shrugged. "It is your business, isn't it, killing people?"

"People who deserve it," Nazir answered. "And you? You don't, no matter what."

"Cry?" They both stiffened at the sound of her name, and turned to see Hainin poking his head out of the Palace. He grinned at them both. "What're you two doing out here? They're about to vote for who won the Moot." He paused. "Or… however they say it. Who won the crown?" He shrugged. "I don't know. But come on!"

He disappeared again, and Cry turned back to Nazir. "You make him happy," she said after a moment. "Don't do anything else that could ruin that, all right?"

Nazir nodded his immediate agreement, and Cry moved around him to get into the main hall of the Palace. Nazir remained behind a moment longer, thanking the Gods that Cry happened to be the kindest Nord he'd ever met.

Nazir joined Hainin on the first floor of the entrance hall, where plenty of other people were already gathered. The jarls were standing on the upper floor, in the throne room, looking down at all of them. Nazir caught sight of Cry up there as well, looking as though she wished she weren't.

Jarl Elisif stepped forward and was the one to address the waiting crowd.

"As you all know," she began, "the jarls of all nine holds gathered in Solitude for the King's Moot. After many hours of deliberation, and a night to think about it all, we've gathered again in the Blue Palace to place our votes." She glanced to her left and right, at her fellow rulers. "As we all know, we can each only place one vote. That vote cannot be placed for any person whose name was not put forward at the first meeting, nor can it be placed in your own favor."

She exhaled. "If none of those whose names were put forward in the meeting have anything left to say, then we shall begin the vote."

None of the jarls stepped forward, and so Jarl Elisif nodded, once. "We will vote in alphabetical order, based on our holds, which means that Jarl Ulfric of Eastmarch will go first." She dipped her head to him, and stepped back again.

"I place my vote in favor of Cry Silverworthy," Ulfric stated clearly, and Nazir saw Cry's face turn pink as dozens of eyes looked at her.

It didn't last long, however, for Ulfric stepped backed and Dengeir forward. "I place my vote in favor of Ulfric Stormcloak."

Then Elisif stepped forward again. "I place my vote in favor of Cry Silverworthy."

"Damn," Hainin said through his teeth. "This is just pettiness. Why did they have to drag Cry into it?"

Nazir didn't respond, for Jarl Sorli of Morthal had stepped forward. "I place my vote in favor of Elisif the Fair."

Nazir didn't miss the twitch in Ulfric's jaw.

Thankfully, Jarl Skald from Dawnstar was next. "I place my vote in favor of Ulfric Stormcloak," he said, glowering at Sorli.

After that, there were one more vote for Ulfric, from Jarl Thongvor of Markarth, and one for Elisif from Jarl Laila of the Rift. That made it three-to-two-to-two.

Things were starting to get iffy.

Nazir stepped closer to Hainin and took his hand as Vignar voted for Cry, clearly as a joke from the amused expression on his face. Breaths all around the room were held as Jarl Korir of Winterhold stepped forward.

"I place my vote in favor of Elisif the Fair."

There was a general murmur of discontent. There was a three way tie.

"What do we do?"

"There's never been a tie before!"

The jarls were glancing around at one another while Cry shrank backwards, clearly not wanting to be present whatsoever. There seemed to be silent agreement amongst the jarls, however, for, after a few moments, several rolled their eyes and others grinned in pleasure while Elisif stepped forward once more.

"Seeing as she was present at the meeting, and because it is a tie, we have decided to ask the Dragonborn to break it."

Once again, all eyes darted to Cry, who closed her eyes in obvious pain before she let out a breath and opened them again.

"Let me make one thing clear," she said, stepping forward. "I never had any desire to partake in this, but apparently it was an obligation. As such, I should have realized that something like this would happen, because very rarely do things ever go my way, despite popular belief.

"The decision I am about to make is not based on loyalties or beliefs. It is based strictly on the fact that there is one single purpose that all who live in Skyrim should strive towards, and that is liberty, and freedom, from those who would see us as nothing more than a country to control and trade with, unable to make our own decisions, form our own laws and rights.

"We have been oppressed for far too long, and I feel that, deep down, everyone knows this, and while some may have decided to live with it, I want to tell everyone that we don't have to. We were a free country once before, and we can be, again, because we are strong, and capable."

Cry closed her eyes again, and Nazir was worried she was about to fall over the balcony into the crowd below. Thankfully, however, she seemed to collect herself, and her eyes opened.

"So, with all this in mind, and with those honest feelings in my heart, I… I must place my vote… in favor of Ulfric Stormcloak."

Nazir closed his eyes, ready to fend off the caterwauls and shouts of anger from the surrounding crowd.

They never came.

Confused, he opened his eyes and saw that most of the attendees were merely staring up at Cry, mouths agape. That only confused Nazir further. Had they all really not known that she would pick Ulfric? It was no secret that Ulfric was planning to be married to her sister; why wouldn't she have picked him?

It took him several seconds before he realized that they weren't gaping at Cry at all, but at Elisif. The Jarl of Solitude had pressed her hand to her eyes and seemed to be crying. That was what had everyone was shocked; jarls never cried in front of their people, apparently.

Cry, looking more uncomfortable than ever, seemed to be debating between offering Elisif comfort and fleeing down the stairs into the crowd below. Nazir, along with many others, waited to see what the Dragonborn would do.

After another moment, Cry slowly stepped towards Elisif, and placed a gentle hand on her back.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to her, "but I had to do what was right for Skyrim."

And, after an even longer moment, Elisif lifted her head, and nodded at Cry. "I understand. Thank you for being honest with your choice." She then turned to look at her people. "The Dragonborn has made her decision," she said, her voice clear. "Ulfric Stormcloak in the new High King of Skyrim."

And, finally, the chaos exploded, but not the bad kind that Nazir had been expecting. Instead, there was an array of cheers, and applause, and even some shouts of, "Ulfric! Ulfric! Ulfric!"

It was a complete shock, and Nazir and Hainin exchanged confused, but pleased glances. They'd been thinking another civil war would break out immediately, but… for whatever reason… everyone seemed… happy? What was that about?

Hainin, at least, seemed not to be too shy to ask. "Why are you so excited?" he asked the closest attendee. "Elisif is your jarl; didn't you want her to win?"

"We're just happy that there's finally a direction!" the Solitude citizen responded ecstatically. "Skyrim has been going nowhere for so long; now, maybe, we can finally do something, for us!"

Hainin looked at Nazir again, and raised and lowered his shoulders. "That's fair, I guess!" he said over the noise, and Nazir nodded.

Cry, meanwhile, merely wanted to get down to Vilkas again, but the jarls were making it extremely difficult. They were all wanting to shake her hand, or give her hugs. All except for Ulfric, of course, who was standing off to the side, smiling benignly at the cheering crowd below them.

Cry finally managed to get away from Vignar, and she pushed through the crowd down the stairs to where she'd spotted Vilkas. He grinned at her as she finally reached him, and quickly scooped her up into a tight hug.

"You did it!" he said with a laugh, trying to put her back down, but Cry refused to let go of him. After trying for several moments to pull her off of him, Vilkas gave up, and went back to hugging her instead.

Cry didn't know how to feel. Should she be relieved? Worried? Terrified? Elated? She had no idea.

In fact, the only thing she felt at that moment was exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to return to Whiterun, collapse onto her bed in Jorrvaskr, and sleep for three solid days, because the Moot hadn't allowed her to get any rest.

Now, however, she thought she might be able to, despite the fact that she knew there was a group of people who were actively looking to see her dead, and, apparently, she knew one of them.

Oh, well. She could worry about that after she recovered from all that had happened in the past week.

* * *

"Ah, look, Hainin was invited to the wedding, too," Cry said, holding up Hainin's most recent letter for Vilkas to see.

Her husband smiled. "Do you think they'll come?" he queried, and she shrugged.

"I don't see why they wouldn't. It's only been a few weeks, and they might as well see this to the end."

"It's more like seeing it to the beginning," Vilkas said, and Cry looked at him in confusion. "They're getting married, which is the start of something for them. So, we're all sort of going to see it to the beginning."

He had a point. Cry grinned at him. "I guess you're right." Her stomach gave its third uncomfortable churn of the morning, and she swallowed back the bile that suddenly rose to her throat. "Yuck, I don't very much feel like traveling."

"Still not feeling well?" Vilkas asked, moving over to where she sat at the table in the corner of the first room of the Harbinger's quarters. Cry shrugged again, covering her queasy stomach with one hand.

"I haven't vomited since last night, but I feel like I have to, which isn't the most comfortable," she explained.

Vilkas offered a sympathetic noise and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. "You don't feel like you have a fever," he said after a moment.

"I probably just ate something bad," Cry said dismissively, and Vilkas lowered his hand.

"I warned you against dunking your sweet roll into the gravy," he teased, picking up the letters she hadn't yet opened.

"I thought it would taste good," Cry told him. "And it did."

Vilkas shook his head at her as he opened the seal on one of the letters, and unrolled it. "Oh, look at that," he said, sounding surprised. "Ziris was invited to the wedding as well."

"Ziris sent a letter to tell us she's coming to the wedding?" Cry asked, shocked.

Vilkas finished skimming the letter, and frowned when he got to the end. "No, Ziris didn't," he said, "but _Brynjolf_ did." He passed the letter to her, and Cry absentmindedly crushed it into a ball without reading it.

"That's nice," she said, examining the ones he had in his hands. "Ooh, give me that one!" she exclaimed, reaching for a letter that was sealed with the fox of Falkreath. "It's from Rayya."

Vilkas handed over the letter, and Cry quickly unfolded it. "She saw Aela!"

"Did she?" Vilkas asked, suddenly interested.

Cry nodded happily. "She said Aela stopped in to visit at the property for an afternoon, and then she was off again." Cry finished reading the letter, and then she sighed to herself. "I wish she would come back to Jorrvaskr. I'd hate to go to Windhelm before seeing her again."

Aela had been present at Jorrvaskr when the two of them had returned, but she'd left again practically the morning after. Cry understood that she was restless, and unwilling to settle down after what they'd gone through involving Hircine and other werewolves, but she wished that Aela would at least talk to her.

In fact, after she and Vilkas had returned from Solitude, Aela had seemingly taken one look at her, cringed, and disappeared again. It had hurt; Cry wasn't going to lie and say it hadn't. She's always thought that she and Aela had grown close over the two years they'd known one another, but… apparently, that closeness had evaporated.

And it made Cry sad, because she missed her friend.

She didn't say any of this aloud, of course, because it would only make Vilkas mad at Aela, for treating her this way, especially since Cry is Aela's Harbinger on top of everything else. It was just for Cry to sit on, and to think about, and to wonder what she'd done wrong.

Of course, she had a fairly good idea. Telling Aela her honest feelings about Skjor's second death, and not having an answer for her when she'd asked where he'd gone, had hurt Aela. Cry was supposed to be the wise one, and she hadn't been, not when Aela had needed wisdom the most.

And it had ruined their relationship.

Vilkas seemed to sense her change in composure, because he looked up from the letter he'd opened, and glanced at her. "What's the matter?" he asked, frowning in worry.

Cry straightened up in her chair, folding Rayya's letter over again. "Nothing," she said, a bit too quickly. "It's nothing. What's that?"

Vilkas looked down at his letter. "It's just from Vignar, asking if we want to travel to Windhelm with him."

"Why didn't he just come see us here?" Cry queried, frowning slightly. "Seems unnecessary to send a letter."

Vilkas shrugged, and put the letter down on the table. "No doubt he's much too busy to come see us himself."

"Still," Cry said. "He could've sent Brill, at least."

Vilkas smiled in response, and settled down in the other chair at the table with a heavy exhalation. "So, when do you want to head for Windhelm?"

"As close to the wedding as possible," Cry answered immediately. "I don't want to spend any longer in that city than I have to."

Vilkas chuckled. "I don't blame you. It seems as though we only barely returned home." He looked at her. "Are you bringing Farkas this time?"

Cry shook her head. "I don't want to bring him along for no reason. Besides, it says I'm allowed one guest." She indicated the fancy invitation, and then Vilkas. "That's you."

"Well, then I suppose I should feel honored," Vilkas said, smiling slightly.

"Indeed," Cry replied, closing her eyes as another wave of nausea washed through her. "Ooh, yuck, I really don't feel good."

"All the more reason to wait to travel," Vilkas said immediately, sitting upright. "Are you sure you're all right? You don't want me to fetch Danica?"

"Oh, Gods, please don't," Cry sighed. "The last thing I want to do is deal with her."

"Still not over the Gildergreen adventure?" Vilkas guessed.

"I will never be over the Gildergreen adventure," Cry answered dryly, wincing as a phantom pain of the wound she'd received from the Spriggans stabbed at her. "It was the worst."

"I'm sure that Danica wouldn't mention it, if you were to go see her," Vilkas attempted, but Cry merely cast a sour look in his direction. "All right, never mind. We won't fetch Danica. You should try to eat something, at least."

Cry sighed. "Fine. Maybe some bread with butter?"

"I'll go get it," Vilkas said, rising from his chair. "Be right back."

Cry watched him leave the room, and then she leaned back in her own chair with a sigh, covering her stomach. She hated feeling nauseous. In her opinion, it was the worst feeling one could experience, because it could be born out of many different problems. Obviously, she merely had a stomach bug, but sometimes her nausea was born from gas, or her monthly cycle.

She frowned to herself as this thought overcame her. Her cycle… when was that supposed to occur? She most definitely did not want to be traveling during that. Her cycle made her irritable, and the last thing she needed was for that to be happening while she was with Vilkas, who would probably understand, but…

She'd rather just avoid that circumstance entirely, if possible.

Unfortunately, with all that had been happening, she had no idea as to when her last cycle had been, and so she didn't know when the next one would happen.

 _Damn. Guess I'll just have to hope for the best._

Vilkas returned after a few moments, Farkas behind him. Vilkas placed the plate he was holding on the table in front of her. "There you go," he said, settling down across from her once more. "Eat."

Cry rolled her eyes, but reached for one of the pieces of bread.

Farkas leaned against one of the display tables. "When are you leaving again?" he asked.

"Not for a few days," Vilkas answered, since Cry was busy chewing. "Cry's still not feeling well, so we're going to wait to see if she gets better."

"And you're certain you don't want me to come?" Farkas questioned, eyeing Cry specifically.

She swallowed and shook her head. "No, Farkas, I'm leaving you here."

"I feel like -"

"I know, you already told me," Cry said, waving her hand. "I promise, I'll be all right without you. I'll have Vilkas, and Calder will be there, too."

Farkas didn't look satisfied, but he didn't push the subject. Instead, he sighed. "All right," he said. "If you're positive."

"I am," Cry said sternly, and she picked up the second slice of bread. "Now, help me decide what colors Vilkas and I should wear."

"What? Why do we have to have _colors_?" Vilkas asked, balking.

"Well… all clothes have colors, Vilkas," Cry said, slowly. "I figured you and I should wear something matching."

"But _why_?"

Cry exhaled and looked at Farkas. "Help me out, here." Farkas put up his hands, and Cry turned back to Vilkas. "I think we should do blue and silver."

Vilkas shook his head. "Sure," he said. "Whatever you say. I want no involvement."

"You're no fun," Cry said in annoyance, finishing her bread. "I ate. Be happy."

"I am," Vilkas told her, "but I'll be much happier when all this traveling is over and done with."

Cry reached over and put her hand on top of his. "Me, too," she agreed, meeting his gaze.

Farkas glanced between the two of them for a moment. "I really think I should come with you," he finally said.

"Oh, Farkas," Cry sighed, putting her hand back in her lap. "I know you're tired of being cooped up here. I promise, when we get back from the wedding, we'll go somewhere, all right? Just the two of us."

Farkas frowned at her. "It's not just that," he told her. "I really don't feel good about this wedding, Cry. I don't want you to go without me."

"I'm more than capable of taking care of myself," Cry said decisively. "We all know that. I promise that I'll be fine."

"I -"

"Farkas, we're done talking about it," Cry stated. "Stop." She pushed her chair away from the table and picked up the empty plate. "I'm going to go upstairs to put this away, and when I come back, we'll talk about whether or not we want to travel with Vignar," she said to Vilkas, and then she walked from the room.

As soon as she was gone, Farkas hurried to take her seat. "Vilkas," he said, looking at his brother, "you need to keep an eye on her, the whole time."

"Why's that?" Vilkas murmured, not really paying attention. He was busy reading through the letter Brynjolf had sent again, searching for anything suspicious.

Farkas reached forward and snatched the letter from his hand, tearing it in the process and gaining Vilkas's attention at the same time. The elder twin looked up and frowned at the expression he saw on Farkas's face.

"She's in danger, I know it," Farkas said, keeping his voice calm. "I need you to swear that you won't let her out of your sight."

"Why do you think she's in danger?" Vilkas questioned, deciding to go along with it. Farkas _did_ seem as though he believed what he was saying.

"I don't know," Farkas admitted. "I just have a feeling." Vilkas frowned at him, and he went on, quickly, "I know what you're going to say, but it's not the same thing. I swear. This is completely different."

Vilkas raised an eyebrow. "You're being serious."

"Yes," Farkas responded. "I mean it when I say that I think something bad is going to happen at the wedding."

"Farkas, we both know your "feelings" are never the most credible," Vilkas said, leaning back in his chair.

"Vilkas!" He frowned at the urgency in Farkas's tone, and glanced at his twin. Farkas's eyes were narrowed, and he looked incredibly upset. "I _need_ you to tell me that you won't let Cry out of your sight."

Vilkas was silent for a moment as he merely studied Farkas, taking him in. "All right," he finally said. "I won't. She'll be safe, Farkas. I promise."

Farkas relaxed slightly. "Thank you," he said, and then he rose from the chair and exited the room.

Vilkas sat in silence as he thought over his conversation with his twin. He'd never seen Farkas act that way before. Sure, he'd always been serious about things, but this was really bothering him, apparently. He really thought something bad was going to happen at the wedding.

Cry returned, and Vilkas glanced up at her. "Maybe we shouldn't go."

She lifted an eyebrow as she retook her seat at the table. "Are you being serious?"

"I am," Vilkas answered.

"Don't tell me you're letting whatever Farkas said get to you."

"What if there's something to it, this time?" Vilkas questioned. "What if something bad is going to happen, and we can avoid it by not going?"

"Vilkas, we can't just _not go_ ," Cry told him. "First of all, it's my _sister's_ wedding. Second of all, it's _Ulfric Stormcloak's_ wedding. Third of all, I _wrote the music for the wedding._ " She shook her head at him. "We're going."

Vilkas let out a breath. He should have known there was no changing her mind, and not have bothered suggesting it at all. "All right," he agreed, "you're right. We'll go."

"Good," Cry said, pleased. "Now, are we going to travel with Vignar or not?"

* * *

 **This chapter was a lot longer than I thought it was.**

 **Oh well! Happy holidays, everybody!**


	12. The Moot - Trivia!

**Some Part 1 Trivia!**

* * *

1\. The idea of assassins going after Cry was the first one I thought of before starting this story, and it slowly formed itself into this.

2\. When I decided that there were going to be conspirators in this story, I had no idea who they were going to be. Still, I only know who two of them are, and haveno idea who the third one is to this day. Oh well.

3\. I played with the idea of Cry becoming High Queen for about three seconds before I decided it was stupid. I left the subject in the story for drama.

4\. When I wrote that scene between Galmar and Ulfric on the way to Solitude, where they were discussing Faisley's position as possible future queen, I was also toying around with the idea of having Ulfric be gay and/or in love with someone else. Because I couldn't decide who he'd be in love with, nor could I get behind the idea of Ulfric being gay, I sort of just pretended that scene never happened and went forward with my normal plan.

5\. Speaking of Faisley, I kicked her the fuck out of this part because she was pissing me off.

6\. Originally, the plan was for Nazir to actually kill Cry in this part, but then I realized holy shit no that's terrible why the fuck would you do that, and I rewrote it.

7\. As I rewrote it, I realized Nazir is one of my favorite characters.

8\. I also realized that Hainin is one of my favorite characters, and quite possibly my favorite OC. I have plans for my gay son.

9\. We'll find out who one of the conspirators is in the next part, and y'all are gonna be SHOOK.

10\. We're never going to find out who the third conspirator is.

11\. The second one comes out in the third part, although there are hints in the second part.

* * *

 **All righty, I'm out! See ya in two weeks, folks!**


	13. The Reaction - Prologue

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Vilkas is very cute!**

 **Other(?) Guest: A child? Interesting concept. I don't know! If there was one, it would not be a wolf, because neither Cry nor Vilkas are werewolves, still. We'll just have to wait and see.**

 **Nina: I do know, and I hope you didn't mind waiting!**

 **Manu: Man, what's with all of y'all hoping and guessing about a baby? I swear I didn't give away anything that would hint at such a thing...**

 **Yet Another(?) Guest: In the words of a wise owl named Big Mama: "Forever is a long, long time... and time has a way of changing things."**

* * *

 **Hello children! I hope everyone had a good holiday! I know I did, and, despite the fact that I received the first four seasons of Game of Thrones and all nine seasons of CSI: New York, I have only watched like... three episodes of each TV show, because I've been busy doing other things!**

 **So good for me!  
**

 **This is part two of the finale to the Skyrim-verse that I've created for my OCs, and I've decided to name it _The Reaction,_ simply because _The Change_ didn't really sound right, and _The Recovery_ is the third and final part. **

**As usual, I've written a prologue that's much shorter than the rest of the story, and that's what you're getting this week.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The Reaction: Prologue**

* * *

The hooded figure paced restlessly across the clearing, wringing their hands. _Where are they? They are always late!_ they thought irritably.

After the complete failure that the first attempt to assassinate the Dragonborn had been, they needed to meet in person, to discuss their second plan. Apparently, they were the only one who cared enough to show up on time for such an important meeting.

There was a rustling of underbrush from the side of the clearing that was behind them, and they quickly turned around to face the newcomer, also cloaked, with the hood pulled down over their face.

"The name?" the first demanded.

"Crayla Honeyrunner," the second panted. "I am sorry for being late. I couldn't get away."

"It's fine," the first said flippantly, waving their hand in the air. "Where is the other?"

"I don't know," the second answered. "I have not heard from them."

"Neither have I, not since Ulfric won the Moot," the first said. They glanced worriedly around the clearing, and then took a step forward. "Do you think -?"

"That they were replaced?" The second raised their shoulders in a shrug. "I couldn't say. I don't live in Riften." They tilted their head. "Shouldn't that be your area of expertise?"

The first shook their head. "You know I haven't been paying any attention to trivial things like that." They seemed annoyed. "I have other things to deal with, you know. The Moot wasted an entire week of my time."

"I'd thought this was the most important," the second said, crossing their arms. "After all, she is -"

"Hush," the first said, suddenly.

Silence fell between the two of them, each listening intently. After a moment, the sound that the first had heard reached them again: the rustling of undergrowth.

The first cursed. "We might be being watched. We'll have to separate, shortly. Send word if you hear anything valuable."

"You already know everything I know," the second said. "In fact, you may know more, since you are going to the wedding."

"I don't plan to be there when it happens," the first told them. "I've already told you this." They glanced in the direction the rustling had come from. "Have you spoken with Nazir since he went back on the agreement?"

"No," the second answered. "He's been ignoring my correspondence, and I've been unable to travel to Dawnstar to confront him." They scowled beneath their hood. "Dirty assassin. We shouldn't have assumed he'd actually do it."

"I tried to tell you as much, but you didn't listen. You seemed certain that he would, so I didn't argue, because I wanted this to be over and done with," the first said sharply. "And now, we have to take another risk, and at the royal wedding of all places!" They hung their head. "This is ridiculous. She should've died when she fought that damn dragon."

"But she didn't, and here we are," the second stated. "And, if nothing else, she'll hopefully at least be _injured_."

"Yes," the first agreed. "That, at least, _will_ happen, because neither of the assassins we've contacted will change their minds. They hold no personal ties to the Dragonborn, and they should be able to attack her."

"If they do not kill her?" the second asked after a moment. "What do we do then?"

The first was silent for a time. "Then we will have to hope she gets the message," they finally said. "Someone is out for her blood, and they won't stop until they've spilled all of it."

"Dark," the second said. "I like it."

"Leave me, now," the first said. "I don't trust these woods to keep our secrets."

"Neither do I," the second agreed. "Have fun at the wedding."

They ducked out of the clearing, leaving the first alone once more. They cast a glance around the shadowy area before exhaling and heading in the opposite direction that the second had gone.

When both were out of earshot, a big figure crept into the clearing instead. It hunched low to the ground, and shuffled through the underbrush with its long snout, sniffing out the strangers' scents. After a moment, it straightened up, huffing. It couldn't discern who the figures had been. It'd never smelled the first before, and the second was familiar, but it didn't know why.

With a shake of its furry shoulders, the beast hurried off into the night, away from both the strangers' scents. It needed to get closer to Windhelm.

Something bad was going to happen to the Dragonborn, and it needed to be close by to help.

* * *

 **Let's jump into the darkest part of the finale, shall we?**


	14. The Reaction - A Wedding

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **P: Thank you! I appreciate you sticking around to read more.**

 **Guest: FINEEEEE.**

* * *

 **So, this is actually the very first thing that I wrote when I started writing up this story, and so... it's probably worse writing than anything else you'll see, or already have seen, because I wrote it awhile ago, and I've grown as an author since, then, in skill.**

 **Just a fair warning, if there's something iffy or terrible that you don't exactly understand. It's because I sucked at writing when it was written.**

 **Well, I didn't _suck_ , but I was worse than I am now. **

* * *

**The Reaction: A Wedding**

* * *

"Why, why were we invited to this?" Hainin grumbled, glaring down at the very expensive, very _not comfortable_ clothing that had been purchased for him from the shop in Solitude over a month prior, when he had received his formal invitation to the wedding of High King of Skyrim Ulfric Stormcloak, to his left-hand general and sister of the Dragonborn, Faisley Honeyrunner.

Nazir, whom Hainin had brought along for moral support, was seated in a chair near the window their room in the Palace of the Kings had to offer. The Redguard smiled at Hainin's facial expression.

"We didn't have to come," he remarked to the Listener, whose glare turned to him instead.

"Don't patronize me, Red," he warned. "I'm about to be stuffed into tight clothing for the rest of the evening, and you do not want to make me angry right before."

Nazir merely chuckled in response, and Hainin picked up the deep red tunic that would be paired with the black wool leggings that had been chosen for him. To complete the look would be the black cloak with red trim Nazir had had made again, when Hainin's other one had been lost in the inn in Morthal. It was missing it's gorgeous clasp, unfortunately, but it was still a lovely final piece to his wedding attire.

"I'm sure Ziris and Brynjolf are wondering why they're here as well," Nazir told Hainin, who snorted.

"I hope we're sitting next to them at the reception," he said, attempting to struggle his way into his leggings without having to sit down. "We'll be able to make jokes with them, and at least be semi-entertained." He grunted as he stumbled, his foot getting caught. Nazir chuckled again, and rose to help him get his foot unstuck. Hainin huffed and fell backwards into the bed, giving Nazir the task of pulling on his leggings the rest of the way.

"I don't want to be here," he decided.

"Not even a little bit?" Nazir asked him. "When Cry didn't invite you to _her_ wedding, you complained for a month."

"That's because I thought there was a reception afterwards," Hainin answered thoughtfully. "I didn't know that it was just the wedding, and then the _Companions_ had a party."

Nazir finished fixing Hainin's leggings for him, and reached for the tunic. Hainin peeled off the plain black one he was already wearing over a long sleeved black undershirt, and then held up his arms so that Nazir could pull the tunic over his head.

Nazir rolled his eyes to himself, but proceeded to do so anyway. Hainin's tunic had been embossed with shiny black pearls, in the shape of the black hand. It was a subtle nod to the Brotherhood, and Hainin appreciated it.

Nazir himself had refused fancy new clothing, but he had accepted the brown trousers, replacing his dingy old pair that he typically wore. Other than those, however, he still wore his robes. His top piece, however, had been removed, and Hainin now reached over and pulled on the short, black ponytail that it kept hidden.

Nazir swatted his hand away and reached for Hainin's cloak while Hainin snickered to himself.

"I love it," he told Nazir, who rolled his eyes in response.

"I knew you would, and that's why I keep it hidden," he said.

"Oh," Hainin replied. "I would have thought it was because you were afraid I'd cut it off, like I did with your chin tail."

"Ouch, taking a stab at an old wound," Nazir said, sounding hurt. "And after I helped you get dressed, too."

"I'm sorry," Hainin apologized, not sounding like it whatsoever.

Nazir flew the cloak about his shoulders in a flourish, and hooked it together using the gold clasps on the front. He then pushed Hainin back a few paces to admire his appearance, nodding to himself after a moment.

"Perfect outfit for me to tear off you once this folly is over and done with," he decided, smiling a bit. He reached forward and hooked a finger under the golden clasps on the cloak, pulling Hainin forward again. "Do try your best to avoid drinking _too_ much. You know I prefer you sober."

Hainin smirked. "We'll see how much I can handle before I simply _have_ to drink," he responded. "It may be the only thing that gets me through this ridiculousness." Nazir frowned at him, and his grin grew. "That, and the promise of being fucked silly afterwards."

"Better," Nazir stated. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Hainin's mouth, and then stepped back again. "Best get moving, lest we miss the ceremony."

"Oh, what a _shame_ that would be," Hainin lamented, and Nazir chuckled as he led the way out of the room and down to the Palace's main hall.

They passed by Ziris and Brynjolf's room as they went, where the two thieves were also getting dressed for the ceremony and reception. Brynjolf, already wearing a crisp green shirt and brown trousers, was seated on the bed, watching Ziris step into the dress that had been made for her. It was green as well, and had gold trim running up and down the sleeves and front. The laces on the back were gold as well, and she turned to him so that he could do them up.

"I'm glad to hear you're no longer complaining," he said, smiling to himself as he took the laces in his hands.

"Well… I suppose I've gotten used to the cold, and I'm beginning to understand that this is, in fact, an honor," Ziris replied, huffing bit to herself when Brynjolf pulled the laces rather tightly. "Easy back there."

"Sorry." Brynjolf lessened up a bit and put the laces through the next hole up, tugging on them again. "I don't imagine that the Brotherhood is happy to be here."

"The Speaker is probably complacent. Hainin must hate it," Ziris said. "Everyone knows that Cry and Vilkas are the only ones who _should_ be here… the rest of us are more like… decoration."

"Decoration?" Brynjolf asked, finishing with the lacing and tying them up. Ziris moved away when he was done, brushing her hair back into place.

"You know… a symbol of good faith between all the factions and the monarchy," Ziris explained. "We were all in Solitude for the Moot. It was probably the obvious choice to invite us all to the wedding as well."

She turned to face Brynjolf, who was silently examining her, a frown on his face. "What?" she asked, starting to smile.

"Nothing," Brynjolf responded, lifting his eyes to meet hers. "It's just…"

Ziris's smile faded, and she frowned at him instead. " _What_?" she repeated, her tone a bit more serious this time.

Brynjolf shook his head. "Never mind. I'm probably just making things up." He offered her his arm. "Ready?"

Ziris gazed at him for a moment, and then she stepped forward and slid her arm through the crook of his elbow. "I suppose so," she said, her eyes on the floor.

Brynjolf led the way out of the room, closing their door behind them, and he started down the stairs that would take them to the main hall.

Once there, they paused and examined it. Benches had been set up on either side, and the great table in the center moved to the rear to wait for the reception. Guests from all across Skyrim were either already seated, or beginning to make their way to their seats.

Ziris spotted Hainin and Nazir, and she gestured to them. Brynjolf nodded in agreement, and they made their way down the center aisle towards the seats the assassins had chosen, near the back of the hall.

"Oh, look Nazir," Hainin said at their approach. "The other happy couple."

"Shove it, Marshal," Ziris returned, smiling all the same. "It's good to see you two."

"And you, Guild Master," Nazir replied, returning the grin. "Come to sit with us?"

"We thought it the best choice," Brynjolf agreed, helping Ziris onto the bench beside Hainin, who took her hand and kissed the back of it as she sat.

"I like your outfit," she commented, admiring the cloak and the Black Hand on the front of his tunic.

Hainin grinned. "Thanks. It was made especially for me against my better wishes."

"What a grand celebration this is going to be, eh?" Brynjolf asked, gesturing around at the newly sewn banners with the Windhelm bear on them, as well as the golden candle holders beside each bench. "Truly a wedding of royals."

"I'm looking forward to the food myself," Hainin said, grinning at the prospect. "Been awhile since I was able to eat the best tasting dishes in Tamriel."

Nazir gave him a scolding look, and Hainin responded by placing a kiss against his cheek. The Redguard seemed to blush at this, and he settled back against the bench, out of view of Ziris, who was busy studying her twiddling thumbs.

"Oh, look!" Hainin exclaimed. "Cry!"

Ziris looked up and saw he was waving to the Dragonborn, who'd just come down the stairs with Vilkas on her arm. Both were wearing blues and silvers, and Ziris envied the way Cry's hair shone like freshly spun gold as she returned Hainin's exuberant wave with her free hand, and then leaned up to speak in Vilkas's ear.

Brynjolf was also gazing at the Dragonborn, and Ziris did her best to ignore the faint expression of want in his green eyes. Instead, she focused on Hainin again, who was fussing with the clasps on his cloak.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"It's sort of tight," he explained, getting the clasps undone. He exhaled and leaned back against the bench in contentment. "Why do weddings take so damn long to begin?"

"Because everyone's taking so damn long to get into their seats," Nazir returned. "It'll start soon. Look." He gestured towards the front of the hall, where Galmar Stone-Fist had just emerged from a side room, dressed in his typical Stormcloak general garb. He stopped to the left of the throne, and stood there with his arms crossed.

After a moment, Maramal, the head priest of Mara, joined him, and they spoke quietly together for a moment before Galmar nodded and shuffled down the aisle. He passed by where the four of them were sitting and disappeared up the stairs leading to the living quarters of the Palace.

Ulfric Stormcloak himself appeared, then, and Maramal bowed to him before gesturing to the spot that Galmar had just stood in. Ulfric took his place, and then examined his guests, who'd all immediately shuffled to open spots on the benches when he'd appeared.

"Galmar must have gone to get Faisley," Nazir determined, settling back against the bench once more. "Any moment now, the band is going to start playing."

"Playing what?" Hainin started with a snort. " _The Age of Oppression_?"

Ziris smiled to herself as Nazir gave Hainin a warning look and a few guests glanced over their shoulders at them.

"No, some lovely tune that Cry wrote especially for this occasion," Nazir grumbled.

He probably had a point. Cry was a member of the Bards College. No doubt she'd written something beautiful for her sister's wedding. Ziris, who loved music as well, was excited to hear it. She had a feeling that Cry would have procured some help from the greatest bards at the College, especially to write a piece for the royal wedding.

She reached over and slid her hand into Brynjolf's, who looked down at her, curious. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Ziris answered, sighing. "I just feel really happy, for some reason."

Brynjolf offered her a light chuckle, and he pressed a kiss against her forehead. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Ziris blinked lovingly up at him, and leaned against his arm. "Yes," she agreed. "It is."

Cry watched the two of them from across the great hall, where she and Vilkas had taken their own seats near the group of instrumentalists, and she frowned to herself. Vilkas noticed, and he glanced over that way as well, before he looked at her again.

"What?"

"I don't know," she admitted, turning away from the two thieves. "It doesn't matter."

One of the instrumentalists, a lute player, caught her attention with a wave of his hand, and Cry stood up and went over to him. He pointed to the music sitting in front of him. "Is this right?" He played a few notes on his lute, following along with the notes written on the page, and Cry nodded, smiling.

"Exactly."

The lute player looked relieved, and Cry returned to her seat beside Vilkas, who was watching her with obvious admiration. Cry chuckled to herself at his expression, and leaned over to place a kiss on his lips.

"Stop it," she warned when she pulled away, "or we may have to leave the wedding before it even begins."

"And do what?" Vilkas queried, smirking.

"You know what," Cry scolded. "Save your bedroom eyes for later."

Vilkas chuckled, but faced forward. Cry glanced once more over her shoulder towards the others, and found Brynjolf watching her and Vilkas. Their gazes met, and Cry forced herself to be the one to turn away.

Cry perked up again when the music started with the familiar chord she'd been working with for almost a month, and Vilkas took her hand and helped her stand. She then turned towards the end of the aisle, and smiled when she saw her sister standing there.

Faisley was wearing a beautiful white dress that suited her tall frame wonderfully. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a simple bun. All the same, she looked perfect, and Cry had never been happier for her.

Faisley began to walk down the aisle in apparent sync with the song that Cry had written, and the Dragonborn exhaled in relief as the tune settled in the way she'd imagined it would, coming to an end as soon as Faisley reached Ulfric and Maramal.

"Good job, love," Vilkas murmured into her ear as everyone sat back down, and Cry offered his hand a grateful squeeze in response.

Maramal went through the normal marriage speech, and Faisley and Ulfric went through the normal agreements of marriage. Maramal blessed them under Mara's name, and then everyone clapped happily for the new High King and Queen.

After that, the celebration really began.

The benches were moved out of the way, food laid out on the table. Everyone ate their main courses, and the dancing began. Cry laughed as Vilkas picked her up and spun her around in the same way that all the other couples were spinning.

He grinned back as he set her down again and continued on into the next step. She hadn't danced in what felt like ages, and it probably had been ages. She'd hadn't know that Vilkas could keep a rhythm as gracefully as he did, but she should have expected it. His swordsmanship must have helped.

After she'd danced with Vilkas for quite some time, he left her to fetch them something to drink and cool off. Cry watched him disappear into the crowd, and then her hand was grabbed by someone else and she was turned around and pulled snugly against Hainin.

She chuckled and gazed up at him as he started to spin them around to music that didn't exist, humming his own tune.

"Have you been drinking, Listener?" she queried, attempting to sound disapproving.

"Of course not," Hainin answered, and from the clearness of his voice, she knew he was telling the truth. "Weddings just make me blissful, that's all."

Cry smiled at him as he allowed her to pull away from his grasp. "Glad you came after all?"

"Perhaps," Hainin replied, shrugging. "The food was marvelous."

"If I see them, I'll tell the chefs you said so," Cry said. "Where'd Nazir run off to?"

"I think he was going to get another one of those… puff things," Hainin explained.

"Ah." Cry took his arm in hand and pulled him along after her towards the table where the food waited. There, she spotted Nazir, and she led Hainin over to him.

"What'd he do?" Nazir asked without looking up from his plate of cream puffs.

"Nothing, but I'm afraid he's going to do something he'll regret later if you don't keep a better eye on him," Cry replied, pushing Hainin forward, gently.

"All right, sorry," Nazir said apologetically. "He might be getting tired, actually."

"I'm not," Hainin said. "Can't I be happy for once? Good Gods."

Cry gave Nazir a smile and then turned away from both of them, only to run directly into the last person she was expecting. She let out an _ooph_ and started to apologize, but stopped when she met familiar green eyes.

"Oh," she said instead, taking a step back.

"Enjoying yourself?" Brynjolf asked, and she avoided his gaze, nodding.

"And you?"

Brynjolf shrugged a bit. "Dancing isn't my favorite thing to do," he admitted.

"It's sort of what has to be done at a wedding, though," Cry pointed out, and Brynjolf nodded.

"Aye."

"Where's Ziris?"

"She wasn't feeling well, so I sent her back to our room," Brynjolf answered. "She may have eaten too much."

"Poor thing," Cry said. "You didn't go up as well, to take care of her?"

"She asked me to stay down here and enjoy myself," Brynjolf explained.

"Oh."

Brynjolf glanced around. "And… _your_ company?"

"He went to fetch us something to drink, but I suppose he could have been distracted by something else," Cry replied, glancing around and not spotting Vilkas anywhere. She finally turned her gaze back to Brynjolf as the music began again, and found him grinning. "What?"

"Dance with me?"

"And risk you stepping on my toes?" Cry said, frowning. "I don't think so, thief."

"Is that a term of endearment, dragon?" Brynjolf returned, reaching for her hand. Cry let him take it, and he pulled her along after him into the middle of the couples who were preparing to dance as well.

She didn't know why she was going along with this. She could have easily pulled her hand from his and disappeared into the crowd, but for some reason, she didn't, and she didn't flee when they stopped moving either.

Brynjolf let go of her hand and dipped into a bow, like all the other men were doing. He straightened up again, and placed one hand on her waist, before picking up hers in the other. Cry's remaining hand went instinctively to his shoulder.

"You've avoided Riften for much too long," he murmured as they started to dance in time to the music.

"I haven't been avoiding anything," Cry retorted. "I just haven't had reason to visit."

"Hm." Brynjolf didn't seem to believe her, and he spun her outwards away from him, before drawing her back in, her back to his chest. "Somehow I find that hard to believe," he said into her ear.

They spun around in another circle, then Brynjolf twirled her outwards and beneath his arm before pulling her back to him, this time facing him. Cry blinked up at him, and he smirked. "I said I didn't like to dance, not that I couldn't."

"I still don't trust you not to send us toppling over," Cry told him.

Brynjolf's smirk grew into a genuine grin. "Suppose I'll have to prove you wrong, then, won't I?"

The music picked up then, and he spun her outwards once more, twirling her around several times as he did so. They then took a few simple steps around, and he spun her out and under his arm again. When he drew her back inwards, he wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up, holding her against him as they turned in several circles. Cry glanced at him from over her shoulder, and Brynjolf set her back down, spinning her around to face him again.

The music came to an end, and Brynjolf stepped back, still holding her hand, and bowed to her again, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I hope that you don't think so little of me, now," he said, softly, and Cry stammered for an answer.

Before she could give him one, someone cried out, and then there was a sharp pain in Cry's side. She managed a weak gasp as she fell forward. Brynjolf caught her in his arms, and she blinked, listening as swords were drawn and people screamed in panic.

* * *

 **Whoo-hoo! Startin' off with some wild stuff, boys and girls! Let's boogie!**


	15. The Reaction - Shots Fired

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: Yeah, Cry's gonna be getting the shit end of the stick for a while. Sorry about that.**

 **Nina: Brynjolf needs a solid punch in the the mouth; I agree. I wonder how much longer Vilkas will be able to hold off from giving it to him, or if he's become a bit more patient over time, and trusts Cry enough, however kind she is. Only time will tell.**

 **Guest: Me too.**

* * *

 **Yeah, so, let's just keep going, I suppose. I don't really have much to say. I started my second semester of college this week, and I'm going to learn how to be a teacher. Isn't that fun?**

* * *

 **The Reaction: Shots Fired**

* * *

"Protect the King and Queen!" someone shouted, and then the same voice, a second later. "Protect your Thane and Dragonborn!"

Cry felt herself being scooped up and transferred to a different set of arms. "Cry? Love, stay with me."

 _Vilkas_. Cry's eyes drifted shut when she recognized his voice, and her head lolled against his shoulder.

Vilkas glanced worriedly at Brynjolf, who gestured towards the stairs. The Companion nodded, and started for them, Cry's housecarl Calder racing after him, his sword brandished.

When he was sure Vilkas and Cry were safely up the stairs, Brynjolf turned around to face the rest of the room, and found that the guests had distanced themselves from Hainin and Nazir, both of whom had weapons drawn and were standing around three different people, each wearing a dark cloak. The Windhelm guards were rushing forward to join them, and Brynjolf did the same, drawing his own hidden dagger out from beneath his tunic.

He drew to a halt, frowning to himself. He didn't recognize the armor the strangers were wearing, nor the colors of the odd scarves they had drawn up over their mouths. They were a dark grayish color, nothing similar to any group of mercenaries or assassins that Brynjolf knew of.

The Windhelm guards quickly subdued the three assassins and led them out of the main hall. The guests were whispering furtively to one another, and Galmar Stone-Fist spoke up above them all: "Guess this means the wedding is over! Everyone should return to their rooms here in the Palace or over at Candlehearth Hall immediately. I'll have to ask that no one leaves the city."

Guests started to be ushered out of the main hall, either by the doors of the Palace or up the stairs. Brynjolf met Hainin's gaze, and the Listener mouthed "Where's Cry?"

"Upstairs," Brynjolf returned, sliding his dagger away. He turned and started to push his way through the crowd up the stairs, aware of Hainin and Nazir hurrying after him.

They jogged towards Cry's room, and found Calder standing outside it, his sword out.

"Relax, Housecarl," Brynjolf said. "The guards caught the shooters."

"Who were they?" Calder asked, lowering his sword.

"No idea," Hainin responded, shoving his dagger back into its hidden place inside his boot. "Doesn't mean we can't find out, though."

"Is she being taken care of?" Brynjolf asked Calder.

The housecarl nodded. "The court wizard's in there with her and Lord Vilkas." He glanced over his shoulder towards the closed door, and then at the three men. "I don't know if -"

"It's all right, sir," Brynjolf said, smiling. "We're the Dragonborn's friends."

Calder gave him a scrutinizing look before he exhaled. "Fine. But I'm right outside."

Brynjolf nodded, and opened the door, sliding in ahead of Hainin and Nazir. He paled when he saw Cry lying in the bed, void of all color as the court mage's glowing hands hovered over the place the arrow had landed. Vilkas stood nearby, pacing, but he looked over when he heard the three of them enter the room.

"It was poisoned," he explained, meaning the arrow.

"How strong of a poison?" Hainin asked, approaching the bed.

"It was definitely meant to kill," the court wizard stated, "but it did not hit anything vital that the poison could spread to. It's important now that we rid her system of the poison entirely, so that it cannot spread at all."

"And the arrow itself? Do you have it?" Brynjolf asked. Vilkas nodded and gestured to the bedside table. Brynjolf approached it and picked up the black arrow that was sitting next to a bowl of red water. He examined its point, and then its fletching, before he passed it to Hainin.

"Ebony," the assassin muttered, eyeing it. "Damn them."

"What're you thinking?" Brynjolf questioned.

"Hainin uses ebony weaponry himself," Nazir began. "Perhaps the assassins were trying to make him take the blame."

"Didn't think about their escape, most like," Hainin added, putting the arrow back down. He crossed his arms and gazed down at Cry, his eyes going soft. "As though I'd try to kill her."

"I mean…"

"Don't start," Hainin grumbled, cutting Nazir off.

"They were hired to kill my wife at the royal wedding. Only my wife?" Vilkas asked in clarification, and Brynjolf nodded.

"Seems that way."

Vilkas growled low in his throat and ran an angry hand through his hair. "I'll kill whoever hired them," he muttered.

There was a low curse from where the mage was hovering over Cry, and Vilkas turned to him. "What is it?" he asked, going from angry to worried in less than a second.

"It's nothing," the mage said, quietly.

Before anyone could question him further, the door flew open and in rushed Faisley, looking flustered. She gasped when she saw Cry, and she quickly hurried to the bed. Ulfric and Galmar entered the room behind her.

"Where's the arrow?" Ulfric demanded, and Hainin carried it over, holding it between two fingers. The High King took it from him, and then snapped it in two. "Galmar."

"Sir?"

"Find whoever hired those blasted assassins," Ulfric ordered. "I want them dead."

"Should I have our newest guests… interviewed?" Galmar inquired, taking the arrow from him.

"Whatever you must do," Ulfric replied, stepping forward to join Faisley at the bedside. "They must pay for this."

Galmar nodded, and stepped out of the room again. Brynjolf went with him, and Nazir followed after a moment.

"I'll check with my sources, though I don't know what they could tell me," Brynjolf started.

"And we'll ask around our own," Nazir added. "I think we all know where the real answers are going to come from, however."

"Exactly," Galmar muttered, straightening his shoulders. "And I'm going to go get those answers right now."

Brynjolf and Nazir stopped, letting him go down the stairs on his own, and then they glanced at one another.

"Perhaps you should go check on Ziris," Nazir suggested.

"Blast," Brynjolf muttered. He'd completely forgotten about her in all the chaos. "You're right."

"We'll come tell you about any updates in Cry's condition," Nazir promised, and Brynjolf gave him a grateful nod before turning and jogging towards the room he and Ziris had been given.

He found her sitting up in bed, reading a book, which she lowered at his entrance. "Did something happen?" she asked. "I thought I heard screaming."

"Someone sent assassins after Cry," Brynjolf told her. Ziris blinked at him in disbelief, and he nodded. "She was shot with a poisoned arrow, but the agents were caught and she's being tended to right now."

Ziris stared at him for a moment, and then she looked down. "I think I want to head back to Riften," she said softly.

"What? But… we have to stay."

"Why?" Ziris asked. "What good are we?"

"I was going to ask my sources if they knew anything about a plot to kill the Dragonborn," Brynjolf explained.

"Let me rephrase: why do we care?" Ziris queried, and Brynjolf looked at her in surprise.

"Where's this coming from?" he asked her.

"I know that you… you still feel something for her," Ziris said, rising from her spot on the bed. "And I… I hate it."

"Ziris -"

"Don't patronize me, Brynjolf." Ziris gave him a cold look. "I don't want to stay here. It isn't safe for us."

"What are you even talking about?" Brynjolf demanded. "Cry's the one who's in danger. We should help her."

"But I don't understand why!" Ziris exclaimed. "What has she ever done for us?"

"Well, she killed a dragon that planned on destroying the world, for a start, and, if I'm not mistaken, she saved your life when the two of you, and Hainin, were in Helgen, about to be executed!"

Ziris glared at him for a moment, and then she threw up her hands. "Fine," she stated. "If you want to stay, be my guest, but I am leaving, because, unlike you, I seem to remember that we have a _business_ run."

"You do that, then," Brynjolf retorted, and, without another word, he stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

He couldn't believe her. Of all the things she chose to do, it was accuse him of acting like this because of attraction? Honestly?

Brynjolf snorted as he made his way back towards Cry and Vilkas's bedchamber. Ziris had some nerve. He'd always admired it, beforehand, but now, it was starting to become a tad ridiculous.

 _Let her do what she wants, he thought. Without her here, I'll have less to worry about_.

He paused outside of Cry's room, and Calder gave him a concerned look.

"You all right?"

"Fine," Brynjolf mumbled. "Any news?"

"Not as of yet," Calder answered. "She's still asleep, and the court wizard is still trying to pull the poison out of her system, one bit at a time." He exhaled. "I should've been more attentive…"

"It was a wedding -" Brynjolf started.

"The perfect place for things like this to happen," Calder finished for him. The housecarl shook his head. "I can't believe I let them pass right by me."

"It isn't your fault," Brynjolf said. "Assassins are hired for their ability to go undetected." He looked downwards, and his shoulders rose and fell. "We'll find who did this," he assured Calder. "Don't worry about that."

Calder nodded after a moment, as then gestured towards the door with his head. "Do you want to go in?"

"No, I should…" Brynjolf trailed off when the door opened, and Hainin poked his head out into the hall.

"All the poison's been removed," he announced, "so now we just have to wait for her to wake up." He slid out into the hall fully. "I think I'm going to go get changed into something more comfortable for that."

He scooted past the two of them and disappeared around the corner. Brynjolf and Calder exchanged a relieved look, and then the thief stepped into the room. The court wizard was setting several potions of different sizes and varieties on the bedside table. Both he and Vilkas glanced at Brynjolf, and the mage sighed.

"Good, someone else should hear this, too, in case the grieving husband forgets," he said, and then he began to motion to the bottles. "This one is for when she wakes up, _immediately_. This green one is for pain, only in small doses, and the other red one is for after she eats something, which she should do as soon as you convince her to."

"Thank you, Wuunferth," Vilkas said, passing a hand through Cry's hair. "I don't know what we would've done -"

"She was… kind enough to come speak to me when… things were looking rather bleak for my future," Wuunferth grumbled. "And she's my new queen's younger sister."

Vilkas turned his gaze back down to Cry. He listened as Wuunferth left the room, murmuring something to Brynjolf as he passed. The thief said something in response, and then the door opened and closed. Brynjolf stepped towards the bed, and Vilkas glanced over at him.

"Why do you care so much?" he asked, and he could sense that the question had caught Brynjolf off guard.

"I… I've known Cry for awhile," he started after a moment. "I just want to be sure she's all right."

Vilkas, who knew the whole story about the two of them, knew that Brynjolf was lying, but he decided to ignore it in favor of watching Cry's face for any sign of wakening. Brynjolf didn't move any closer. In fact, he took a few steps back.

"If you need anything -"

"I'd like to change out of these clothes, actually," Vilkas said, straightening up. He glanced down at himself, and frowned at the drying blood on his blue shirt. "If you could…"

Brynjolf nodded in understanding, and quickly left the room. When the door had closed behind him, Vilkas left the bedside and crossed the room to the wardrobe where he and Cry had put their clothing for the trip. He pulled out a plain grey shirt and black trousers, and changed into them, discarding his wedding attire on the floor. When he was done, he picked up the fine clothing and threw them into the wardrobe so that he wouldn't have to look at them anymore.

He then closed the wardrobe's door, and leaned back against it with a tired sigh. So much for a beautiful wedding.

He heard movement from the direction of the bed, and straightened up, walking back over to it. Cry had rolled over onto her side.

He let out a breath and pressed a hand against his forehead. _Who could have wanted her dead_?

There was a knock on the door, and he turned to it as it opened, revealing Hainin, back again and in new clothing. He sighed when he noticed Cry's shift in position, and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"You didn't try to change her, too?" the assassin asked, and Vilkas shook his head.

"I don't know if moving her is the best choice," he explained.

"Well, she can't stay in that bloody dress," Hainin decided, walking over to the bed. He started to prop Cry up and slip behind her on the bed. Cry groaned a bit in response to this movement, as far as Vilkas could tell, while still asleep. Hainin winced a bit, but managed to get himself behind her, and he laid her back against his chest, undoing the laces on the back of her dress.

"Go get her something," the assassin said without looking up from his task. "Unless you'd rather her be naked." He glanced up at this, and smiled when he saw Vilkas's face. "Oh, stop it. Get her some robes, at least."

Vilkas returned to the wardrobe and started picking through it for something easy to slide Cry into. Hainin finished unlacing the dress and gently started to pull it down off of her, moving with so much care that Vilkas had to wonder how this man was capable of killing.

Hainin glanced up when he noticed Vilkas watching, and he gestured with his head, arms full. "If you're done staring…"

"Sorry." Vilkas returned to the bed, set the robes down, and helped Hainin strip Cry of the dress fully. When it was off, they slid the robe over her arms and shoulders, then tucked her back in under the blanket. Hainin then slid out from behind her, and rested her head back on the pillow, brushing an affectionate hand through her hair. He smiled to himself, and then looked at Vilkas.

"I used to hate her," he said, softly. "I don't know why, just… just felt like I needed to, because of all the contracts we got for her death. But… she managed to talk me out of it, every time I went to kill her." He smiled a bit. "Guess I started to admire her, after a time, and then when she helped us with the vampires, I… I realized that she was probably one of the best human beings I've ever met." He glanced down at Cry. "I don't know why anyone would want her dead, but…" He trailed off and let out a breath. "I should kill them."

"You're not the only one who feels that way," Vilkas assured. "Believe me."

"You want to kill whoever it was more than I do," Hainin said. "Obviously. But… you should know that _everyone_ is just as furious as you, Vilkas. And we're not going to stop until we figure out who did this."

Before Vilkas could respond, there was a knock on the door, and then Brynjolf was poking his head into the room.

"Anything?"

"Not since you left ten minutes ago," Vilkas replied, refraining from rolling his eyes.

Hainin noticed his shift in demeanor, however, as well as how uncomfortable Brynjolf suddenly looked. He glanced between the two of them for a moment, and then down at Cry, who looked about as peaceful as she had the entire time she'd been asleep.

Frowning to himself, Hainin looked at Vilkas. "I think we should go talk to Ulfric and Faisley about Cry's status," he suggested.

Vilkas looked at him. "You want me to go?"

"You're not doing Cry any favors by sitting in here worrying," Hainin responded. "It'll be a few minutes, Vilkas. Brynjolf will watch her, won't you, Brynjolf?"

"Sure," Brynjolf answered, "and Calder's right outside."

Vilkas stared at him for a moment, and then he sighed and glanced down at Cry again. "Fine," he said, looking at Brynjolf. "You know what the potions are for." Brynjolf nodded, and Vilkas gestured for Hainin to take the lead.

The assassin did so, passing by Brynjolf and offering him a look. Brynjolf gazed after them both, confused, and watched the door close. When it had, he cautiously crossed the room to the bedside and settled down in a chair near Cry's head.

He gazed down at her, wondering how long it would take for her to wake up. He hoped that this was normal, her sleeping even after all the poison was gone. He supposed it was, considering her body needed to heal itself, too.

Still, he was relieved when he noticed her eyes beginning to flutter, and he reached for the potion Wuunferth had said she needed to take right after she woke up.

Cry inhaled slightly, and her eyes opened completely. She glanced around for a moment, and then her gaze settled on Brynjolf, who offered her a small smile.

"Hey, lass," he greeted, and he held up the potion. "You need to take this, and then we can talk if you like."

Cry nodded, and Brynjolf reached forward to help her sit up slightly so that she could take the potion. She did so in one gulp, and winced as she settled back down against the pillow. Brynjolf set down the empty potion bottle and returned his attention to her.

"How do you feel?"

"Not great," Cry replied, "but better than I thought I would." She glanced around the room again. "Where's Vilkas?"

"He went to tell Ulfric and Faisley about how you are," Brynjolf explained.

Cry frowned, obviously troubled by this explanation. "He left while I was still asleep?"

"Hainin convinced him."

"Oh." Cry smiled slightly. "That explains it." She glanced over at him. "They put you in charge of watching me?"

"I was available," Brynjolf answered. "Calder's right outside, though."

Cry relaxed a bit. "That's makes me feel better." She furrowed her brows. "Who shot me?"

"We don't know," Brynjolf said. Cry exhaled, and Brynjolf frowned. "You don't seem surprised."

"I'm the Dragonborn, Brynjolf," she sighed. "There's probably countless people who want me dead, and one lucky person finally found an unknown assassin group to do the job." She offered him a tired smile. "So, no, I'm not surprised no one knows who the assassins are."

Brynjolf didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he watched as Cry adjusted her position against the pillow, her eyes drooping a bit.

"Exhausted?" he guessed, and the Dragonborn glanced up at him. Brynjolf took in her expression and nodded to himself. "Thought so. Get some more rest."

"I should wait up for Vilkas to come back," Cry insisted, but she nonetheless sank back into the pillow with a yawn.

"Remember, Calder's outside, and Vilkas will be back soon," Brynjolf assured her, and Cry nodded sleepily.

Brynjolf backed away from the bed, and turned to leave the room. He opened the door, stepped outside, and closed it softly.

"Did she wake up?" Calder asked hopefully, and Brynjolf nodded.

"She's still exhausted, so she's going to go back to sleep," he explained. "I thought maybe we should talk about Cry's other housecarls, and see about getting them here."

Calder looked relieved by the idea. "She has one in every hold, aside from Winterhold. If you want, I'll tell you their names, and you can start writing letters to them."

"I think, perhaps, that may be a job better suited for her husband." Brynjolf looked in the direction of the new voice, and saw Nazir step away from where he'd been leaning against the wall aways down the hall.

Calder glanced down, embarrassed. "I just thought… since Brynjolf is here -"

"I understand, sir," Nazir assured, approaching them. "You don't need to explain yourself to me." He glanced at Brynjolf. "Still."

"Right," Brynjolf agreed. "I'll just go see if I can find Vilkas, then."

"You do that," Nazir replied.

Brynjolf nodded to them both and walked away, glancing over his shoulder to find Nazir was watching him go.

* * *

 **I'm gonna go keep learning how to be a teacher, now. See you next week.**


	16. The Reaction - A Plan

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: You're the sweetest, thank you! And we'll find out what Ziris's problem is as time goes on.**

 **Guest: I wish I knew which guest you were so that I'd know who I was talking to! Anyhow, thank you for your review, and for your continued reviews, if you're the same guest that leaves one behind every chapter.**

* * *

 **I think this part is my favorite out of the three.**

 **I also think one of my professors is gay, and it's awesome.**

* * *

 **The Reaction: A Plan**

* * *

Hainin leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, listening to the argument that was occurring within the king and queen's bedchamber. It sounded as though Faisley was shouting more often than Vilkas, but neither of them were very happy with one another. No doubt the Companion wanted to take his wife home, but Faisley was insisting her sister would be safer in Windhelm.

Hainin thought they were both wrong, and that Cry should be moved somewhere the assassins wouldn't think to look for her.

He was contemplating going into the bedchamber himself, to tell them this, but before he could make up his mind, Brynjolf appeared.

"What's going on?" Hainin demanded, straightening up.

"Nothing," Brynjolf answered. "She woke up for a few minutes, and then went back to sleep. Calder and I discussed it, and we think we should bring the rest of her housecarls to Windhelm, to help guard her."

"That's smart," Hainin replied after a moment. He then gestured to the closed doors of the bedchamber. "Vilkas is a bit busy, currently."

He watched Brynjolf approach the doors and take a listen. The thief's brows drew together, and he glanced at Hainin. "Who do you agree with? Should she stay here or go back to Jorrvaskr?"

"I think she should go somewhere the assassins won't expect," Hainin responded easily, leaning back against the wall again. "Like the Sanctuary, or maybe even the Guild. If she stays here, they may send more attackers, and if they go back to Jorrvaskr, they may find that assassins are waiting there for them."

"Don't you think the assassins know that she's close with the other faction leaders, then?" Brynjolf queried, wondering briefly how Ziris would react if he were to show up with Cry, asking if the Guild could watch over her.

"Maybe, but at least there's less of a chance for them to be waiting for us when we arrive," Hainin told him.

In fact, the assassin thought that it would be best if Cry was moved as far away from Windhelm and Whiterun as possible, which meant that either the Sanctuary or the Guild's headquarters in the Ratway of Riften were good choices. He certainly didn't think they should remain in Windhelm, although it sounded like Faisley was beginning to win that battle.

Maybe it was time for him to step in.

So, passing Brynjolf a glance, he turned to the door and knocked on it.

Within a moment, the shouting had gone silent, and someone opened the door from the other side.

Hainin entered the bedchamber to find Faisley pacing one side of the room, while Vilkas paced the other. Ulfric, who'd opened the door, went back to sitting at a table in the corner, looking between wife and brother-in-law.

"All right," Hainin said, holding up his hands. Vilkas and Faisley turned to him at the same time, and he folded his arms across his chest again. "Listen to me. As an experienced assassin, who's attempted to kill Cry myself numerous times, I think it's best if we don't do either of the things you two are suggesting -"

Immediately, there was two different explosions from either side of the room. Hainin let out a breath and held up a hand again. They fell silent, again, and he went on, "- I think that, perhaps, the best choice would be to move her to either the Guild's headquarters in Riften, or the Brotherhood's Sanctuary in Dawnstar."

Expecting to be met with more anger, Hainin was surprised when neither of them immediately started yelling. He looked from Faisley to Vilkas, and saw that they were both studying the ground, apparently deep in thought about his idea.

It was Ulfric, however, who cleared his throat and spoke first: "Perhaps that is the safest choice," he said. "Both are far from Windhelm and Whiterun, and the assassins are less likely to expect her to have gone to either of them."

"But is it safe to even transport her?" Faisley asked, glancing upwards. "What if the assassins attack during the journey to the new location? I don't want to have to move her, if it's safer for her to just stay here, where we can fortify the protection already surrounding her."

"And you don't think that she'd still be in danger, now that they know she's injured?" Vilkas questioned. "They won't be expecting us to leave Windhelm; once they don't hear back from their assassins, they might send another pair to try again!" He shook his head. "I don't want to be here when that happens."

Hainin listened to both of these points, and then he gestured vaguely. "I doubt that any intelligence about us leaving the palace to move her will leave the palace itself. We have the assassins in our custody. Unless there's someone on the inside giving out information, then there's no reason to believe that Cry and her traveling party won't be safe on the road, on their way to a better, more secure location."

Faisley didn't seem to be willing to cave just yet, however. "I still don't trust it," she decided. "I would like it better if we were able to keep an eye on her here, where we know what kind of protection she'll be under."

"Yes, well, that protection certainly worked out for everyone just an hour ago, didn't it?" Vilkas spat.

Ulfric immediately climbed to his feet, his hands clenched at his sides as he glared at the Companion. "Don't you dare start with that," he growled. "You will not speak to my wife, your _queen_ , in that manner."

Vilkas glared at him, but fell into a stony silence nonetheless. Ulfric then turned to Hainin. "Which do you suggest is the safer location?"

"Ulfric!" Faisley said in shock, but Ulfric didn't look at her.

"I would say the Sanctuary, strictly because it is farther away, and it is not as easily accessible as Riften," Hainin answered. He managed a grin. "It's not just because it's my home."

Brynjolf, who'd been lingering in the doorway throughout this whole discussion, suddenly cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him, and he said, "Did anyone think to ask what the Dragonborn believes to be the best course of action? It is her safety we are talking about, after all."

Vilkas glowered at him. "Do you think I do not know what is best for my wife?" he muttered darkly.

Brynjolf shrugged his shoulders. "No, since you were suggesting we take her to Jorrvaskr, when the assassins are more than likely to be watching it, waiting for your return."

Vilkas made to move across the bedchamber to where the thief stood, but Ulfric stepped in his path. Brynjolf, seeing that he was not in danger any longer, continued on: "I believe that Cry should have a say. She may not want to leave the palace at all, considering she was shot with a poisoned arrow only an hour ago. She might not want to leave the bed anytime soon, in which case, we need to prepare for her unwillingness to travel."

He looked at Vilkas. "The first step would be to contact all of her housecarls, and order them to Windhelm as quickly as possible."

Vilkas grunted and stalked away from Ulfric towards the wall of the bedchamber, shoulders hunched. He was silent, and no one else bothered to speak, either. As Cry's husband, he needed to decide if he wanted to do that, since Cry herself was currently resting and unable to provide an answer of her own.

After some time, the Companion straightened his shoulders, and turned to face them all. "We will send for three of the housecarls to meet us here in Windhelm," he said. "The others will travel to the Sanctuary in Dawnstar, to await our arrival. If Cry decides that she does not want to travel, we will bring them here." He hesitated a moment, and then let out a breath. "I suppose we must contact the Blades as well."

"The Blades?" Hainin asked, frowning, and looking at Brynjolf, who raised his shoulders in confusion.

Faisley and Ulfric, however, were looking at Vilkas. "Will Delphine assist us, despite Cry going against her wishes to kill the dragon?" Ulfric asked, and Vilkas shrugged.

"We have to try. The more protection we can get for Cry, the better."

"Sorry, who are the Blades?" Hainin inserted.

Vilkas looked at him. "The Blades are a group of warriors indebted to the Dragonborn. They're sort of like a personal guard that travels with the Dragonborn to help him or her fight dragons."

"Well, that's great, then," Hainin said, perking up a bit. "Then they shouldn't have any problem wanting to help us watch Cry."

"They might, actually," Vilkas responded. "When Alduin was still a threat, the Blades were not only worried about him, but all dragons. Unfortunately, the creature that Cry had been receiving most of her advice from was, in fact, a dragon, who'd turned good. The Blades insisted that the dragon needed to pay for what he'd done during the first Dragon Wars, but Cry didn't feel the same way, and she left him alive." Vilkas sighed. "I don't even think Cry's been in contact with the Blades since that falling out, other than to report to them that Alduin was dead."

Hainin exhaled hearing this news. "Well," he said after a moment, "surely they can't hold a grudge forever. And, now that the dragons aren't such a huge problem anymore –"

Immediately, everyone aside from Brynjolf looked at him as though he'd just spoken in a foreign language. He stared back, confused. "What?"

"How often do you leave the Sanctuary, Hainin?" Faisley asked him, and he shrugged.

"When I have to. We're sort of loaded with gold, presently, so the excursion to Solitude and then here for the wedding has kind of been the biggest trip we've taken since the vampire fiasco." He looked around at everyone. "Why?"

"Dragons are still roaming Skyrim," Vilkas responded. "Cry has been doing her best to go around to all the towns, to try to teach everyone about dragon safety, teach the guard how to fight the dragons more efficiently, for _months_."

Hainin was now even more confused. "Why are dragons still attacking if their big bad leader is dead?"

"I don't know," Vilkas answered, shaking his head, "and neither does Cry, but she thought that the best course of action was to try and improve a settlement's chances against an attack, since she has so many other responsibilities to worry about now."

Hearing this, Hainin couldn't believe he hadn't noticed that there were still dragon attacks occurring all over the place. He supposed that, during the past few months, he had sort been busy doing… well, nothing. After the vampire thing, he hadn't felt like doing anything, and no one had forced him to, so he'd been kicking up his feet and ignoring his responsibilities, and letting the initiates handle most of the contracts.

It was really no wonder that he had no idea about the dragons. He hadn't taken the time to look around for them, or pay attention to reports on them.

But, knowing that Cry was trying to improve cities and towns' chances of fighting a dragon helped him to relax a little. He appreciated her efforts, and had had no idea that her willingness to protect Skyrim stretched to such an extent.

He admired her. He really, truly did. If he'd been the Dragonborn, he would've dealt with Alduin, and that would've been the end of it.

Brynjolf cleared his throat again. "Perhaps, then, an envoy would be the best choice," he said.

"The Blades have their headquarters all the way west," Vilkas said, shaking his head. "It is too far. A message by courier is the safest, fastest choice."

"I don't think so," Brynjolf answered.

Vilkas turned abruptly and glared at him. "I don't believe that what _you think_ matters, _thief_."

"All right, all right," Hainin said, moving between the two of them before they could advance. "Ladies, calm down." Brynjolf and Vilkas looked at him, and Hainin glanced between them. "What would Cry think, if she heard that we were arguing instead of trying to figure out the best way of taking care of this mess?"

"Cry isn't here," Vilkas said slowly. "And, since she isn't, it falls to me -"

"Oh, please, Vilkas," Hainin sighed, looking at him. "You don't believe that, and neither does Cry. Nobody here believes that, just because she's been injured, that it suddenly means she cannot make decisions of her own."

There was silence from Vilkas, and from everyone else, so he went on, "I say we send letters to the Blades, the housecarls, and the Companions. Tell them what's happened, and send the letters with only the most trusted couriers. We will then need to ask Cry what she thinks about traveling from Windhelm to a safer location, and how she feels about the Sanctuary. If she agrees, we will move there. If she disagrees, we will stay here, or go wherever else she wishes. Once we are there, we will send more letters, telling them that the Dragonborn is safe, but nothing more."

He let out a breath. "And then, after that, we will see what happens."

There was more silence, and then, Faisley spoke, quietly: "You don't suppose we should ask Cry what she thinks before sending letters?"

"I want Cry protected as soon as possible," Vilkas told her.

"So wait to send letters to the Blades and whoever else until we know what we're doing with her," Faisley said. "Send only for her housecarls, for now."

Hainin looked at Vilkas. "Sound good?"

The Companion stood stock still for a moment, looking around at everyone in the room. Finally, he lowered his gaze to the floor. "Fine," he said, and then he shouldered past Hainin and Brynjolf out the door.

"Your Graces," Hainin said, bowing to Faisley and Ulfric before turning and following Vilkas out of the room. Brynjolf trailed behind him.

Hainin jogged to catch up to Vilkas. "If you like, I can start on the letters to the housecarls," he said, and Vilkas shook his head.

"I will write them," he said. "They won't trust it, coming from you." He seemed to realize what he'd said after a moment, and he glanced sideways at Hainin. "Sorry."

"No, I get it," Hainin said, grinning. "One of them tried to kill me once, so -"

"Wait, what?" Vilkas asked, frowning.

"A long time ago, when I was trying to kill Cry as a contract for the Brotherhood, I followed her into her house in Whiterun. Before I could stick her, her housecarl stuck me." Hainin thought about it for a moment. "Lydia, I think her name was."

"Ah." Vilkas turned his gaze away again. "Lydia joined the Blades."

"Really?" Hainin asked in surprise, and Vilkas nodded.

"She had a lot of experience fighting dragons, after having traveled at Cry's side for the beginning of her journey to defeat Alduin," he explained. "She thought her talents would better serve the Blades, and so she left Cry's service, with Cry's blessing."

"So… does Cry not have a housecarl stationed in Whiterun?" Hainin asked, and Vilkas smiled for the first time.

"No, she does," he said. "Farkas."

"Oh," Hainin said, still confused. "Wait… how?"

"Jarl Vignar let her choose who she wanted to protect her back," Vilkas said with a shrug. "It wasn't a surprise that she picked Farkas."

"No," Hainin agreed. "I'll bet she trusts no one more than she trusts him. Aside from you, of course."

Vilkas smiled again. "You spoke well, back there," he said. "Where did you learn diplomacy like that?"

Hainin shrugged. "Here and there. I know I'm supposed to be the Listener, but I've always been more of a talker, really."

"You taught yourself all that?" Vilkas queried, and Hainin smirked.

"Perhaps," he said, pausing in front of Cry and Vilkas's bedchamber, "or perhaps my past is just as mysterious as Cry's once was."

Vilkas gazed at him for a moment, and then he turned to Calder, who was still standing upright, one hand on the top of his sword.

"Has she woken up?"

"Not that I've heard, sir," Calder answered.

Vilkas sighed, and pushed his way into the room. Hainin turned to look at Brynjolf, and shook his head, once. Brynjolf nodded in agreement, then kept walking, past the bedchamber.

Hainin nodded to Calder, giving him his most winning smile, and moved into the bedchamber after Vilkas.

Vilkas had already sat down in a chair he'd pulled up to Cry's bedside, and was stroking his hand through her hair. Hainin let him, and paced the room a few times, thinking to himself.

"Vilkas," he said after a moment, and the Companion looked over at him. "How'd you come to fall in love with Cry?"

Vilkas let out a laugh at the question. "Well," he said after a moment's thought. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I… I think it may have been the moment she returned to Skyrim, but… I still don't know if that's true or not, mostly because at first, I didn't think I liked her at all."

"Why not?" Hainin asked with a grin.

"I thought she was too proud," Vilkas explained. "She didn't tell us she was the Dragonborn, and yet she waltzed into Jorrvaskr and acted as though we needed to know who she was." He rolled his eyes to himself, but looked down at Cry, smiling in affection. "She talked big, for someone who didn't know how to use the weapon she chose for herself."

"But you fixed that."

"Not really," Vilkas answered, shaking his head. "She refused to train with me, said I was pig-headed and rude. Can't say I wasn't."

"So what changed?" Hainin asked him.

Vilkas was silent for a long time. Finally, however, he shrugged. "I think that, if I knew the answer to that question, I'd be the smartest man to have ever walked the face of Skyrim."

Hainin grinned. "Love's odd, isn't it?"

"Yes," Vilkas answered immediately, turning his gaze back down to Cry as she stirred. "Very odd."

Cry blinked open her eyes, looked up at Vilkas, and a small smile raised the corner of her lips. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," Vilkas replied softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Drowsy," Cry admitted, but nonetheless she tried to sit up straighter. Vilkas helped her do so, and as they were resituating her pillow, she caught sight of Hainin.

Hainin grinned at her and moved forward a few paces. "Look at you," he said admiringly. "Nothing can take you down."

"That's kind of the point," Cry said, smiling back. She then looked back at Vilkas. "I'm thirsty."

"We'll get some water and food up here as soon as we can," he promised, and then he looked at Hainin. "Go tell Calder, will you?"

Hainin jogged away towards the door, leaned out it for a few moments, and then reentered the room, beaming. "Just a few minutes' wait," he said.

Cry leaned back against the pillows. "All right," she said, looking at them both. "What's the plan?"

"We're going to send for your housecarls," Vilkas answered, "but before we bring them all to Windhelm, we wanted to know how you felt about leaving Windhelm all together and going someplace else to hide while we find the source of the assassins."

Cry frowned at him. "Go where?"

"The Sanctuary," Hainin said.

"What?" Cry sounded surprised. "You'd… be all right with that?"

"Why not?" Hainin asked, raising an eyebrow. "It'll be safer than Jorrvaskr, and when they don't hear back from their first set of killers, they may send more here to find out what happened."

Cry thought this over for a minute. While she was doing so, there was a polite knock on the door. Hainin went over to it, and came back over to the bed with a tray carrying a jug of water, a mug, and a bowl of steaming stew with a plate of bread off to the side.

"Look at that," he said, placing the tray across Cry's thighs, gently. "You're being pampered. Maybe I should get shot with a poisoned arrow."

Cry let out a laugh. "I don't think you'd like it very much," she said, reaching for the jug of water first. Instead of bothering to pour any in the mug, she poured water straight from the jug into her mouth.

"After you eat, you'll need to take this," Vilkas said, reaching for one of the potions remaining on the bedside table. Cry nodded in agreement as she pulled off a piece of bread and dunked it in the stew. "What do you think about traveling?"

"Well… I don't think I can go anywhere _tonight_ ," Cry replied, swallowing, "but… maybe tomorrow? Or the day after that? I agree that I shouldn't stay here, but I don't feel like traveling all the way to Dawnstar right now."

"Of course not," Vilkas said, "but you will go?" Cry nodded, dipping another piece of bread into the stew. "Good. Then I'll get started on letters to the housecarls."

"I'll write to the Brotherhood, too," Hainin added. "Let them know we're coming, with a horde."

"That's probably a good idea," Cry said with a smile. "Now, can I trust you two to compose letters, or do you need my input on that, too?"

"I'm sure we can manage," Vilkas said, smiling as well. Hainin was glad to see his spirits were considerably higher, now that Cry was awake and talking to him. "You eat, and take your potion, all right?"

"Yes, mother," Cry replied, and turned her attention to her food.

Vilkas glanced at Hainin, who grinned back, winked, and headed for the door. He probably had parchment and ink in his bedchamber, so that he could write a letter to Babette.

And… he probably needed to check with Nazir, make sure the Redguard was all right with this.

He found Nazir sitting on the edge of their bed, fiddling with his scimitar. He glanced up as Hainin entered the room, closing the door behind him.

"We need to keep Brynjolf away from Cry."

Hainin blinked. "Hello to you, too," he said, moving towards the desk against one wall. "Why do you think this?"

"I just don't trust him," Nazir answered. "He seems to me the type of man to take advantage of a vulnerable woman, and that would just make the list of problems too damn long." He slid his scimitar away and followed Hainin to the desk, peering over his shoulder as he picked up a quill and dipped it in the inkwell that was sitting on the desktop. "I already wrote to our sources -"

"This isn't to our sources," Hainin answered, addressing the letter to Babette, Serana, and Cicero.

 _Our Three Friends,_  
 _We should have guessed that you'd be right about the dangers of attending a royal wedding. No need to worry about us, because we are perfectly fine._  
 _However, as a result from our recent excursion to Windhelm, we will be bringing quite a few guests home with us in the coming days. Prepare the Sanctuary for a number of visitors who will be staying for an indefinite amount of time, please._  
 _We love you,_  
 _Your Listener and Speaker_

Nazir frowned as Hainin signed the letter, and then dropped some sand on it to dry the ink. "We're not taking Cry to the Sanctuary, are we?" he finally asked as Hainin started to roll the parchment.

"We are," the Listener answered, glancing around for a candle. "Grab me that, would you?"

Nazir went to retrieve the already burning candle and brought it back to the desk. Hainin let the wax drip onto the parchment for a moment, and then set the candle down.

"You didn't think to ask me?" the Redguard finally questioned.

Hainin sighed. "Well, it was the Sanctuary, or the Ratway, and since you don't trust Brynjolf, I doubt you have many qualms."

"But the Sanctuary isn't a place for _visitors_ ," Nazir informed him. "You know that as well as I. How will the Night Mother react? How will the others react? Hainin, it isn't a good idea to just spring this on them -"

Hainin wasn't listening. The wax had hardened, and he pushed away from the desk, and Nazir, to carry the letter towards the door. Nazir watched him go, unsure of how to stop him, make him pay attention. Hainin had clearly already made up his mind, and when Cry was involved, there was rarely any hope of changing it.

Still, that didn't help Nazir's feelings on the matter in the slightest. He didn't think it was a good idea. No doubt Babette would be furious about having all those humans around, and Serana wouldn't take to it, either. Cicero might be all right, but Nazir didn't think their visitors would be all right with Cicero.

It was going to be nothing more than a great mess.

* * *

 **Unless, y'know, the assassins are totally chill with it because they have very little fucks to give about anything.**

 **And, we got some conflict. Some tenseness between Ulfric and Vilkas and Faisley and Vilkas and Brynjolf.**

 **Yikes.**


	17. The Reaction - Heartbreak

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Nina: Don't worry about missing a chapter or two! Updates are every week on Friday or Saturday, just depending on when I remember to upload the new chapter. I love seeing your comments, no matter what chapter they're posted on!  
And yes, tension's always a lot of fun to play with, because you can have so many people fighting one another at once. It's awesome. Creates good emotion. **

**Manu: Brynjolf needs to step off. He's not my favorite guy right now. In fact, he's pretty low on the list. Hainin and Vilkas, however? Super high up there, and I think they will continue to be as the story progresses. You'll have to tell me what you think about the two of them.**

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 **This chapter's pretty rough. Just a head's up, in case you couldn't gather as much from the title.**

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 **The Reaction: Heartbreak**

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"Are you sending for Farkas, too?" Cry asked.

Vilkas looked over his shoulder at her. "Out of all the housecarls, who do you think I trust the most to protect you?"

"He was right after all," she stated.

"Yes, and I'm sure we'll hear all about it," Vilkas mumbled.

Cry smiled in response and turned back to reading through the letters he'd already written. They all said the same thing, which was that she was in need of the addressed housecarl's service, and that they were to report to Windhelm immediately.

She set aside the one that Vilkas had put Iona's name at the top of, and looked over at her husband again. "I'm glad they only shot me," she said. "If they'd targeted anyone else, this would be a much bigger mess."

"Can't we pretend that you are currently the only thing that matters?" Vilkas asked. "I'm grateful, too, that no one else was harmed, but it's not my job to be concerned about everyone else."

"I know," Cry said, adjusting herself against her pillow. "I just -"

"Cry." She glanced at Vilkas, and saw a look on his face that said she needed to stop thinking so much. "No one else was hurt, and you're going to be fine. We need to think about destroying the people who did this in the first place. That's all."

Cry gazed at him for a moment longer, and then she nodded and focused her attention on the top of the four poster bed's canopy. "What's being done to the assassins?" she asked.

"Galmar's interrogating them for information," Vilkas answered, finishing with the last letter. He'd be sending different ones to Argis, Rayya, Jordis, and Gregor. He wanted them to go straight to the Brotherhood Sanctuary, to make sure the place was secure before they brought Cry there. The others, Farkas included, would come to Windhelm and be part of the guard that would travel with them to Dawnstar.

"Has Calder been relieved from guard duty?" Cry queried. "I don't want him to have to stand there all night, especially when there's no reason to believe anyone else is planning to attack right now."

"Oh, that reminds me," Vilkas said, rising from his chair at the desk. He walked across the room to the bedchamber door, and pulled it open. "Calder."

"Sir?"

"Inside."

Calder entered the bedchamber, looking slightly more wary than he had seconds prior. He glanced around, and then at Cry, his face contorting into one of worry.

Cry offered him a grin. "Hello, Calder," she greeted. "Thank you for watching my door. I really appreciate it."

"My sword is yours, my Thane," Calder said, bowing slightly. "I'd protect you, and all you own, with my life, if need be."

"Yes," Vilkas agreed, closing the door and walking over to stand next to Calder, arms crossed. "Now, it'd be preferable if you could get down on one knee and promise the same thing, sword out."

Cry looked at Vilkas, frowning. "That isn't necessary," she told him. "I trust Calder. I trust all the housecarls. Why should they have to restate their oath?"

"It is no trouble, my Thane," Calder told her, moving closer to the bed. He withdrew his sword and lowered himself to one knee, planting the sword tip against the floor. He bowed his head. "I pledge my life to guard yours. I will watch your back, and do anything else you would ask of me, within reason, until I can do so no longer."

Cry sighed. "Rise, Calder, and thank you, although I don't understand why you needed to do that." She cast a look at Vilkas, who seemed much more relaxed than he had moments before.

"Just a precaution, in case any of the housecarls decide that they would rather not deal with all this," Vilkas explained, reaching out to pat Calder on the shoulder as the housecarl rose and slid his sword away again. He then gestured towards the door. "I'll find someone to relieve you, soon," he assured.

Calder nodded, and went back to his post. Once the door was closed again, Vilkas turned back to Cry. "I need to ask you something that you might not like."

Cry winced. "Uh-oh," she said, crossing her arms. "I already don't like the sound of it. What?"

Vilkas's shoulders raised and lowered. "We need to contact the Blades, ask for their help."

Cry was already shaking her head. "No."

"Cry…"

"They won't help us, even if we ask, which we won't," Cry said, steely. "They made their decision a long time ago, when I made mine. They are no longer the personal guard of the Dragonborn, and I will not ask them to be."

Vilkas gazed at her for a moment, letting out a long breath. Finally, he turned away. "Fine," he said, shortly. He went to retrieve the letters that were on the desk, and then moved to take the ones that Cry had with her. "I need to find couriers for these."

"Vilkas." He paused as he reached the door, and glanced back at her. Cry smiled. "Thank you."

"I'll be right back," he assured, and then he left the room.

Cry gazed around the room, wishing that it was a place she felt more at home. She would've preferred getting shot with an arrow in Jorrvaskr, because she wasn't afraid to be there.

But, she supposed, getting shot in a place that wasn't home was the better choice, so that you wouldn't ever fear your home.

She realized, sitting there, waiting for Vilkas to come back, that she was very bored. She was tempted to get up and walk around the room a bit, even though she knew that if Vilkas came back while she was up, she'd never hear the end of it.

Still, she couldn't stay in bed forever. She would get cramps in her legs when she finally did try to stand and walk, so it would be better if she started now, rather than later.

Determined, she pushed the blanket off of her and turned so that her legs hung off the edge of the bed. Her freshly healed wound let out a sharp cry of complaint, but she ignored it in favor of grabbing one of the posts on the bed and pulling herself to her feet.

She straightened up and stood like that for a moment, using the post to support her. She waited for her head to catch up with her body, and blinked when her vision went white for a moment.

"Ooh." She opened her eyes and was relieved when her vision cleared. "All right. Just a few steps."

She let go of the post, and walked forward. Her wound cursed her with each step, and she cursed it right back, wondering if the cramping pain she was feeling was normal for poisoned wounds.

She made it to the door, and turned around to return to bed. As she started back across the room, however, she felt something wet drip down her leg. Frowning, she lifted the edge of her robe and looked down. A rather thick line of blood was trailing down her legs, and forming a puddle on the floor.

Cry, who didn't think it was coming from her wound, opened her robe to make sure. Indeed, the area where she'd been shot was healed over with pink skin, which looked fragile, but was holding in her blood. So where was it coming from?

She lowered her gaze past the wound above her hip, and let out a weak gasp. She folded her robe over herself again and lowered herself to the floor, then raised her voice as high as it would go: "Calder!"

Almost at once, the door blew open and her housecarl raced into the room. He went pale at the sight of her on the floor, a pool of blood growing steadily bigger beneath her. Cry glanced up at him. "Get someone!"

Calder raced into the hallway, and Cry heard him yelling for help. What felt like moments later, someone was crouched down next to her.

"Cry? What's… oh my Gods."

"I don't know," Cry replied, wincing as the cramping started to grow much worse. "I don't know!"

Hainin, who'd been the one to run to her as soon as he'd heard Calder's shouts, didn't know what he was supposed to do. The last thing he was was a healer, so he could do nothing but assure her that it was going to be fine while they waited for one to come.

Minutes, or hours later, Cry wasn't sure, she was back on her bed, exhausted but no longer bleeding. Wuunferth was wiping off his hands with a rag, leaving blood stains behind. Vilkas, looking pale and frightened, paced nearby. He looked over at them, however, when Wuunferth let out a breath.

"What happened?" Vilkas asked, moving towards them.

"I'd hoped that the poison hadn't affected it, but it seems I was wrong," Wuunferth replied, vacantly.

"Hadn't affected _what_?" Vilkas demanded.

"Vilkas," Cry tried, but her voice was weak, and she didn't think any noise actually came out.

The court mage glanced between the two of them for a moment before bowing his head. "The Dragonborn was carrying a child before she was shot with the arrow," he said, "and now she is not."

Cry closed her eyes. She'd suspected as much, as soon as she'd seen the source of the blood, but she had hoped that she was wrong. Apparently, she hadn't been.

The lack of sound from Vilkas was worrying. She opened her eyes to find him gaping at Wuunferth, as though he either didn't believe him, or was too surprised by the news to know what to think.

"Vilkas," she tried it again, and this time, a small noise emitted itself, but it couldn't be described as any specific word.

That was enough, however, because Vilkas seemed to snap back to himself. "She lost the babe?" he asked Wuunferth, and the court mage nodded. Vilkas lowered his gaze to the floor and didn't say anything else.

"I am… very sorry," Wuunferth said, quietly. "If you have further need of me…" He trailed off, glanced between the two of them, and then left the bedchamber.

There was silence.

Cry looked up at Vilkas, wishing he would say something. Instead, he was focused on the ground, his whole body tense. She wanted to sit up, to pull him to her and hold him, but everything hurt, and the last thing she wanted to do was move.

So, the most she could do was lift her hand and try to reach for him.

Vilkas noticed her movement, and he turned towards the bed, crouching down beside it. He didn't look at her, but he leaned forward until his head rested, very lightly, on top of her belly, and he closed his eyes.

Cry placed her hand in his hair and leaned her head back, squeezing her own eyes shut when she heard Vilkas let out a soft sob.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her belly.

Cry closed her hand into his hair. "I am too."

They stayed like that for a long time, and when Vilkas started to stir, Cry let him go.

"Do you want to see any of the others?" he asked her, wiping at his eyes, which were red. There was a damp spot on the blanket covering her belly.

Cry shook her head, and Vilkas let out a breath. "I didn't… I thought we didn't think that you could have children."

"We did," Cry answered, turning her gaze up to the canopy. "At least… that's what we thought."

"So…" Vilkas inhaled shakily. "There's a chance we could try again."

"Vilkas -"

"I know," he said, shaking his head. "You're going to say that I never would've wanted a child before knowing what happened, and you're right." He moved back to where she lay and reached for her hands. "But, now that we know it's a possibility -"

"Vilkas, I don't…" Cry trailed off, and closed her eyes, feeling even worse than she already did. "The last thing I want to think about right now is trying again."

"Then we don't need to," Vilkas inserted. "It's just… it's nice to know, isn't it?"

Cry didn't respond, and Vilkas sank down into the chair still next to the bed. He avoided looking at the mess that remained on the stone floor, and gazed at her instead.

"Did you find couriers for all the letters?" Cry asked him.

"I gave them to Nazir," Vilkas replied. "He said he'd take care of it."

"I hope Farkas gets here first," Cry murmured. "Vilkas?"

"Hm?"

"I'd like to sleep now."

Vilkas wanted to sleep, too, but he knew that he still had things to do. Smiling slightly, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Then do so, my love," he whispered. "I'll leave you alone."

He started for the door.

"Vilkas."

He paused, and looked at her. Cry's eyes were filled with tears. "I know we didn't know about him, but… now that I know we lost him, it hurts. Really bad."

Vilkas swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat. "I know," he said, softly.

Cry turned her head the other direction, so that he could no longer see her face. Vilkas lingered for a moment longer, and then he turned and exited the bedchamber, blinking the new wave of tears away.

Calder was anxiously leaning against the wall outside, and he straightened up as soon as he saw Vilkas.

"The mage wouldn't tell me anything. Is she all right?"

Vilkas exhaled. "Physically, she will be, yes," he responded. "Do you need someone else to stand guard for a while?"

"No," Calder answered immediately. "I can handle it for a bit longer."

Vilkas managed a tired smile, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Calder."

"Thank you, sir," the housecarl responded, dipping his head.

Vilkas nodded, and walked away from him, down the hall towards Hainin and Nazir's room. Hainin appeared from it as he walked closer.

"What was it?" he asked, and Vilkas shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said. "She's fine, that's all that matters. Did Nazir get the letters to couriers?"

"One for each housecarl," Hainin replied, still looking concerned. "Vilkas, was she -?"

"I told you, I do _not_ want to talk about it," Vilkas said, more harshly this time. "Leave it alone."

Hainin looked ready to berate him some more, but he didn't. Instead, he crossed his arms. "Galmar's done with the assassins. Said to tell you to meet him in the throne hall as soon as you could."

"Then we should go," Vilkas replied.

Hainin nodded, and ducked into his bedchamber again. He reemerged after a moment with Nazir behind him, and Vilkas led the way down the hall towards the stairs.

They passed Brynjolf along the way, just as he was coming out of his own bedchamber. He looked at them all as they passed, and then decided that something must be happening, so he followed them.

Galmar was waiting in the throne hall, along with Faisley and Ulfric. Faisley was pale with worry, and she hurried towards Vilkas as soon as she saw him.

"Is she all right? Wuunferth told us there was a complication, but he wouldn't explain -"

"She'll be fine, in time," Vilkas responded, and then he walked past her towards where Galmar stood. "What did you learn?"

Galmar grunted. "Not much. They were tough buggers, wouldn't budge. I had to take drastic measures to get only one bit of information out of them."

"What was it?" Vilkas pushed.

"They call themselves the Dragon Stalkers," Galmar answered. "It's a stupid name, if you ask me, but it sounds like their sole purpose is to kill Cry."

"You didn't find out why? Or who their leader is?" Vilkas demanded.

Galmar straightened his shoulders. "Don't you think I tried? The assassins weren't giving up anything. You're lucky I got the name!"

"Galmar," Ulfric said from where he sat in his throne.

Galmar backed down, and Vilkas bowed his head.

"Well…" Hainin began when no one spoke for several moments. "At least we have something to start with, right?"

"Right," Brynjolf agreed, stepping forward. He looked pale, Vilkas thought. "We can ask around, find out if anyone has heard anything about these… Dragon Stalkers."

"We'll get somewhere, eventually," Nazir concluded.

"But how soon is _eventually_?" Vilkas asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "I can't… I don't want Cry to be in danger for longer than necessary, and I'm sure you don't want us imposing on your own faction for too long," he said to Nazir and Hainin.

"Vilkas -"

"Everyone has their own lives," Vilkas went on, ignoring Hainin. "I don't want to disrupt them all just so that we can take the time to find out who did this." He looked around at them all. "I appreciate you all wanting to help, really, but… I can't let you put everything on hold just for Cry."

There was stunned silence for a moment, and then Hainin scoffed. "Vilkas, do you not understand how important Cry is?"

"Of course I do," Vilkas said, frowning.

"Then why are you acting like we wouldn't want to do everything we can to help make sure she's safe?" Brynjolf questioned.

"Because you all have… other things to do," Vilkas said. "You have the Guild, you two have the Brotherhood…" He turned to Ulfric and Faisley, who'd walked back over to the throne and was now sitting on its arm. "You two are the High King and Queen!"

"But she is my sister, my baby sister," Faisley reminded him. "I would do anything for her."

"The Dragonborn is very important to everyone within Skyrim," Ulfric put in. "Without her, there would be no Skyrim at all, perhaps no Tamriel." He dipped his head to Vilkas. "We all owe her our lives. I do not see why we should not do our best to protect hers, and make sure whoever is trying to take it from her are destroyed."

Vilkas looked around at everyone in the room. He saw nothing but determination on each face, and relief flooded through him. His shoulders relaxed, and he could do nothing but bow his head.

"Thank you, all of you," he said, quietly. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for doing this for us."

"Then don't worry about it," Hainin said, grinning.

Vilkas let out a small laugh, and then he inhaled. "I should get back upstairs to Cry."

"Of course," Ulfric replied, touching Faisley on the back to indicate she should join him. "We'll let you know if we get any responses, or when one of the housecarls arrives."

"Thank you," Vilkas said, and then he left the throne hall, Faisley trailing after him.

When he was out of earshot, Hainin looked at Ulfric. "You know how to Shout, right?"

"Yes…" the High King replied, sounding wary. "Why do you ask, Listener?"

"Well, I know that there was a dragon that helped Cry out once or twice, when she needed to get somewhere quickly," Hainin answered, recalling what Cry had told him once in a letter, when he'd asked about how she'd reached Alduin. "His name is Dragonwing, or something. Can't you summon him, or whatever, and ask him to pick up the housecarls a little faster?"

Ulfric was frowning at him, though he looked thoughtful. "I suppose I could try, though I don't think this dragon would listen to anyone other than the Dragonborn."

"But it's worth a try, isn't it?" Brynjolf asked. Hainin glanced at him and saw he was looking as though he liked this idea. "If we learned what the dragon's name actually is, you could try to Shout for him?"

"It is possible," Ulfric said, glancing at Galmar, who seemed to think the idea was rather good, too. "If we could learn the dragon's full name, and I were to know each syllable's meaning, then -"

"His name is Odahviing," a new voice said from the other end of the throne hall, and all gazes turned in that direction. A red haired female Nord was walking towards them, a bow hanging off the sheath of arrows on her back. "It means 'winged snow-hunter', I believe, although you may want to check with Vilkas."

"And who are you?" Galmar asked gruffly, stiffening his stance a bit.

"I'm Aela," she answered, pausing a few paces away from Brynjolf, who stood the furthest from the throne. "I'm one of the Companions, and I came as soon as I heard that the Harbinger had been attacked."

"What were you doing so far from Whiterun, Companion?" Ulfric queried, sounding amicable, if not wary once more.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, King Ulfric, but Vilkas and Cry will understand." She adjusted her weight from one foot to the other. "I'd like to see the Harbinger, if that's all right. Hainin or Nazir can take me to her."

"You know this woman?" Ulfric asked the two assassins, and both nodded.

"She's being truthful," Nazir put in.

"Well… all right, then," the king said after a moment. "Take her to Cry and Vilkas's bedchamber. Brynjolf, I'd like to speak with you about someone I know in Riften, who may be able to get us information on our group of assassins."

Brynjolf nodded and remained behind while Hainin and Nazir turned and led Aela up the stairs. Once they were gone, Brynjolf looked at Ulfric, who was gazing down at him with eyes that had hardened considerably.

"I was told that the Guild Master had left the Palace of Kings shortly after the events that transpired earlier this afternoon," he began, his voice steely. "Did you have knowledge of this departure?"

Brynjolf hesitated a moment, and then he nodded, once. "I'm afraid that Ziris didn't see what we could do to help the Dragonborn, and decided that she needed to return to the Guild," he explained.

"And so you let her go, despite the fact that she knew the Dragonborn had been attacked?" Ulfric demanded.

"There was no stopping her, Your Grace," Brynjolf said. "She was determined to leave. Nothing I said could have dissuaded her."

Ulfric glared at him for a moment, and then he looked at Galmar, who offered a shrug of his shoulders and a jerk of his head. The king returned his gaze to Brynjolf.

"You'll need to go after her," he said, and Brynjolf's heart plummeted into his stomach. "We cannot have her telling everyone she meets, and then some, that the Dragonborn has been attacked. We do not need the added chaos of everyone in Skyrim being privy to this."

"Surely there are others who would be more likely to spread the information than Ziris," Brynjolf tried after a moment of desperately thinking up an excuse for him to not leave the Palace. "Really, Your Grace, I don't think we have anything to worry about when it comes to the Guild Master."

"I am sure that is what you thought of your previous Guild Master," Ulfric said dryly, "and yet everyone knows how that ended."

Brynjolf saw red at the reminder of Mercer Frey's betrayal, but he forced himself to remain calm as he gritted out, "So you just expect me to leave the Palace to go after her, even though my help here is -"

"Is what?" Galmar interrupted. "What can you do that helps the Dragonborn anymore than what everyone else is already doing?"

Brynjolf stared at him, but didn't answer, because he didn't have one.

"You will go after Ziris Coldwater, and warn her against informing anyone of what has happened here today," Ulfric concluded. "You will be given the fastest horse in the city stables. You leave immediately." He nodded to Galmar, who moved forward, ready to escort Brynjolf from the Palace.

Brynjolf, not knowing what else there was to do, decided to walk out of the Palace on his own volition, since it was the last way he could feel some sense of pride.

Upstairs, inside the Palace, Nazir and Hainin had brought Aela to Cry and Vilkas's bedchamber. Calder was still outside, although he was beginning to look a little less alert; he didn't jump when they approached him, at any rate.

"H'lo, Aela," he greeted glumly, and then he seemed to realize what he'd said because his face lit up a bit as he took his fellow redhead in. "What… how…?"

"Is the Harbinger sleeping, Calder?" Aela asked him, and he nodded.

"She was when Master Vilkas came back upstairs, at any rate."

"Then I won't disturb them," Aela said. She turned to look at Hainin and Nazir. "You two. I want a full report of what has happened."

So Nazir and Hainin took turns giving her the explanation of what had occurred that day, from the shot fired at Cry during the reception, to whatever had happened that had caused Cry to become weaker than she was even when she'd been hit with a poisoned arrow, to Ulfric's agreement to try and summon Odahviing.

Calder had been listening in as well, and he looked gloomy once more. "I think I know what has weakened my Thane," he said when the two assassins had finished their explanation, "but I don't think I should say, in case I'm wrong."

Hainin, who wanted to know what had happened very badly, decided that he wanted to know how Aela had reached Windhelm so fast even more.

"How did you find out what'd happened so quickly?" he asked her. "We only sent out letters to the housecarls maybe an hour ago."

"I have my sources," Aela said, "who keep a sharp eye on Cry at all times, when I'm not nearby. Luckily, I was near the Throat of the World when I heard, so I got here rather quickly."

"How, though?" Hainin persisted. "You couldn't have taken a carriage, or walked, so -"

"Just leave it, Hainin," Nazir said quietly.

Hainin opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, the door to the bedchamber opened, and Vilkas poked his head through. "I thought I heard your voice," he said to Aela, stepping outside fully and closing the door behind him.

"Is she all right?" Aela asked, and Vilkas nodded.

"She's sleeping soundly, thank the Gods. The court mage brought up a sleeping draught for her, thought it would help." He let out an exhausted sigh and hung his head. "I failed her, Aela."

"No," Aela said immediately. "And I wouldn't let Cry catch you saying that, either, because she'd be pissed you'd even think such a thing."

"You don't understand," Vilkas whispered brokenly. "So much has been lost…"

Aela looked at the other three in the hallway. Calder's head was bowed; no doubt he understood what Vilkas meant, based on his prediction. Nazir was looking at Hainin, frowning, and Hainin was watching Vilkas, concern and confusion evident on his face.

Aela sighed, and looked at Calder. "I'll relieve you as soon as I talk to Vilkas," she said to him, and then turned to the assassins. "I'd ask that you two leave us to talk alone."

"Sure," Hainin said after a moment, and then he turned and started down the hall, Nazir going after him.

Vilkas led the way into the bedchamber. A woman Aela didn't recognize sat near the bed in which Cry lay, and from the smell of her, it was because she was related to her. Aela hazarded a guess that the woman was Cry's sister, and ignored her.

Instead, she turned to look at Vilkas, whose head was still hanging. She inhaled, and, smelling nothing but grief radiating off of him, her fears were confirmed.

"She lost the child, didn't she?" she asked Vilkas, softly.

Vilkas's head raised, and she recognized a hint of confusion just barely visible through the tears in his eyes.

"You knew?" he asked, sounding disconcerted.

"I sensed it, when you returned from Solitude," Aela responded tiredly. "She couldn't have been more than a week or two along, then, so it couldn't have developed much more in the time that's passed." She started to reach out a hand towards him, to offer him a comforting touch on the shoulder. "It wasn't even a babe yet, really…"

"How could you say that?" Vilkas exploded, which startled both Aela and Cry's sister, who jumped a bit. Vilkas lowered his voice, remembering Cry was in the room sleeping, and hissed, "After all we'd gone through to make this happen, after we'd given up because we decided it was impossible, you dare try and make it seem like this isn't a big deal? That perhaps our only chance at a family is gone, and we're supposed to be all right with it, because it "wasn't even a babe yet"?"

"No, of course not," Aela said, keeping her own voice steady. "I only meant that it may not even have known what it was, yet. It probably had no idea where it was, either. It wasn't…"

"What? Wasn't _what_?" Vilkas growled lowly. "Alive? If he hadn't been alive, then Cry couldn't have lost it, because there would have been nothing to lose!"

"She lost a babe?"

Both Companions turned to Faisley, who had risen from her chair and approached them. Her eyes were wide, and tears were clearly on the verge of falling.

"Oh, Vilkas, I'm so sorry -"

"Don't be," Vilkas muttered, moving away from Aela and towards Faisley's vacated chair. "Apparently we didn't actually lose anything."

He sat down, heavily, leaving Faisley to look at Aela. The huntress was feeling terribly uncomfortable. She hadn't meant to upset Vilkas; she'd only wanted to offer him some comfort. Clearly, she wasn't very good at that, and probably shouldn't have even tried.

"I'll be outside if you need anything," she murmured, bowing slightly, and then she retreated back through the door.

Calder looked relieved at the sight of her, but also a bit guilty. "You don't need me to stay?" he asked, and Aela shook her head.

"You should get some rest," she told him. "I might need you to take over sometime in the middle of the night."

Calder nodded. "I'll be ready." He glanced at the door once more. "You think they'll be all right?"

"They will, in time," Aela answered. "It helps, I think, that they didn't know."

"But now they do," Calder said.

"Which might be making it harder," Aela concluded.

Calder sighed. He then turned and walked off down the hall, disappearing down the stairs.

Aela leaned against the wall next to the door, crossing her arms. She glanced up and down the hall. She didn't think anyone would try anything, not now, but she knew it was a stress reliever for Vilkas to have a guard for Cry at all times.

She'd had no idea that Vilkas and Cry hadn't known she was carrying a child. She'd thought that, since Cry had been sick so much the week they returned, that Cry, at least, had understood why, and that they'd waited so long to travel because of the babe itself.

Now, she felt horrible. Perhaps if she'd said something, before they'd left… if she hadn't run away...

The door opened again, and Faisley stepped out. She looked at Aela, and the huntress could see she'd been crying.

"I know that they didn't know," she started, "but that just makes it worse."

Aela nodded, once, and Faisley exhaled. "I didn't feel like I belonged in there. Vilkas is grieving, and Cry is sleeping, so -"

"You don't have to stay," Aela stated. "I'm sure you're tired, too."

Faisley smiled slightly. "That's true, but I don't know how any of us are going to get any sleep. Not after what happened, and not while we have two assassins within our walls, locked up or not."

"They're not dead yet?" Aela demanded.

Faisley shook her head. "We were trying to get information out of them."

"And did you?"

"Not as much as we hoped. We only know that they come from an organization called The Dragon Stalkers." The queen snorted. "Stupid name."

Aela frowned to herself at this news. "It _is_ stupid," she agreed. "Do you think -"

"That it could be a fake?" Faisley nodded. "Of course. But it's the only information we have, which means we need to use it somehow."

Aela exhaled. "You're right. It could lead somewhere, I suppose."

"You'll be all right here?" Faisley asked, and Aela dipped her head. "All right. I will see you in the morning."

"Sleep well, Your Grace," Aela said after her as the queen walked away down the hall.

* * *

 **Look at that, Faisley and Aela interacting with one another to poke holes in our assassins' story. Interesting, interesting.**

 **Also, geez, I killed a baby in this chapter. That was a little eff'd of me, wasn't it?**

 **Sorry.**

 **I did say Cry was going to be getting the shit end of the stick for a while, which is a pretty crude way of saying that she was going to suffer from a miscarriage, but...**

 **I couldn't exactly give it away, could I?**


	18. The Reaction - Aftermath

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Yes. Yes it was. I'm the worst.**

 **Manu** : **Yeah, I think Cry and Vilkas are going to be okay, because of who they are surrounded by. Who they decide to trust with the information of their lost child, however... that'll be telling. So far, not everyone knows, but we'll see if that stays the same as this chapter, and the ones following, wear on.  
** **Thank your for your review, as always!**

* * *

 **So, after _that_ , uh... I don't really know what to say. Let's just move on. **

* * *

**The Reaction: Aftermath**

* * *

No one slept well that night.

Vilkas, who didn't want to risk bothering Cry, ended up on the cold, hard stone floor. Hainin and Nazir slept back to back; Nazir still upset with Hainin's decision to move Cry to the Sanctuary without consulting him first. Faisley barely slept at all, too worried about her younger sister and how she was going to mentally cope with the loss of a child. Ulfric hadn't even attempted to sleep, and had been up all night reading into anything he could find about summoning dragons within the Palace's miniscule library. As such, he did not find much.

After a night of poor sleep for all those involved, everyone, excluding Cry, converged once more in the main hall of the Palace, to go over the plan for that afternoon.

"Cry woke up this morning, and said that she wants to go to the Sanctuary today," Vilkas started.

"Is that possible?" Faisley questioned, frowning in uncertainty, and Vilkas raised his shoulders.

"She said that she's up to it, and so… I suppose it must be." He looked at the two assassins. "I know that you only just sent the letter to your Family last night, but -"

"Vilkas, I already told you that it's fine," Hainin interrupted. "If anything, we'll just show up a few hours after the letter does, and it'll all be very comical."

Nazir didn't say anything, merely turned his attention to the floor.

Vilkas nodded to Hainin, and then looked at Aela, who'd come downstairs with him after Calder had taken her place in front of Cry's door. "How long do you think it will take Farkas to arrive? I don't feel comfortable traveling with only you and Calder as support."

Aela tilted her head. "Knowing Farkas, he started for the Palace as soon as his letter reached him. I don't doubt that he's already on his way here."

"And the other housecarls?"

"A few of them probably haven't even received their letters, yet," Aela answered. "They may not until later on today, and by then, if you plan on actually leaving today, we'll be gone."

"Which means we should chase that first letter with a second, telling them to head straight for the Sanctuary," Hainin stated.

"The three I sent letters to, requesting them to meet us at the Sanctuary, will get there before we do, which is good." Vilkas paced back and forth, rubbing the spot above his eyebrow. "We won't be able to collect any along the way, however, and that's troubling."

"Calder, Farkas, and I, as well as you, are more than enough defense for Cry," Aela promised him. "We won't let anything else happen to her."

"That's what I thought, last night," Vilkas murmured, his eyes closing.

There was a brief pause, and then Ulfric cleared his throat. "Hainin mentioned the Dragonborn's dragon companion. Is it possible that I could summon him, and send him to retrieve any housecarl that does not arrive within a day or so after your arrival at the Sanctuary?"

Vilkas shook his head. "If Odahviing were to land too close to any town, the guard would attempt to kill him."

"Cry hasn't told anyone to avoid shooting him?" Hainin questioned.

"A dragon is a dragon, Hay," Nazir pointed out, finally speaking. "No one is going to question whether or not it's the Dragonborn's special one."

Hainin made a face at him in response, and then turned to look at Vilkas. "Then can we send you and Cry ahead of everyone else?"

"Odahviing can only carry one person at a time," Vilkas replied. "I don't want to send Cry on her own. She's too fragile."

"Then… how about we just ask that he circle around our little traveling group?" Nazir questioned, glancing at the Companion. "Wouldn't that work? He'd be able to spot any threats, and fly down to assist us if things were to get ugly."

Vilkas was silent for a moment, but Hainin grinned at the Redguard. "That's a great idea!" he said happily.

Nazir shrugged, but he was secretly pleased. In truth, he didn't like fighting with Hainin, especially when it was about something as important as this. If Hainin thought taking Cry to the Sanctuary was the best choice, and doubted that the others would find a problem with it, then who was he to complain?

Vilkas had set his shoulders. "It is a good idea," he agreed, and then he looked at Ulfric. "You think you could summon him?"

"I could certainly try," Ulfric answered, climbing from his throne. "Would you like me to do so now, or wait until your other Companion arrives?"

"I'm here!" came a call from the other end of the hall, and they all turned to see the bulky form of Farkas jogging towards them, his armor clanking. He skidded to a halt at Aela's side, inhaling sharply, and he looked at Vilkas. "Is she all right? Where is she? Who's watching her?"

"She's all right, brother," Vilkas soothed, moving towards his twin. "Thank you for arriving so quickly. She's upstairs, resting. We plan to travel to the Sanctuary later today."

Farkas blinked at him. "The Sanctuary? As in the _Dark_ _Brotherhood_ Sanctuary?"

"Yes, the _Dark Brotherhood_ Sanctuary," Hainin said, stiffly. "What's wrong with that?"

"Why wouldn't we just take her back to Jorrvaskr? It's safe there, and she already has the rest of the Companions to look after her," Farkas said, ignoring Hainin.

"We don't know if Jorrvaskr is being watched by the assassins," Vilkas answered. "I know you just traveled here from Whiterun, but I need you to go with us to Dawnstar. Can you do that?"

Farkas exhaled. "Anything for you and Cry. You know that."

Vilkas smiled, and pulled Farkas's forehead down against his, as a guise of thankfulness. Once Farkas was close enough that he could whisper to him, however, Vilkas did so, quickly: "Cry was carrying a baby and she lost it last night. Not everyone knows, so don't say anything."

He then removed his hand from Farkas's neck and looked around at the others. "We'll wait until the sun is at its highest point to head out. Perhaps another housecarl will have arrived by then. In any case, I'll send more letters to the ones I requested meet us here, and tell them to head for the Sanctuary instead."

Everyone nodded, and Vilkas headed for the stairs, Aela and Farkas trailing after him. As soon as they reached the hall that the bedchamber he and Cry were using was down, Farkas picked up speed and hurried towards where Calder stood outside the door.

Calder nodded to Farkas, having met him before, and let him into the room. Vilkas and Aela followed.

Farkas had immediately dropped to one knee next to Cry's bedside, and was already repeating the words that he'd said to her when she'd appointed him her housecarl after Lydia's departure from her service.

Cry, who looked very tired, smiled at him. "Thank you, Farkas. I'm glad you're here."

Farkas glanced over his shoulder at Vilkas and Aela, and Vilkas nodded, indicating that Aela already knew about the babe. Farkas turned back to Cry, and reached for her hand. "I'm sorry about the little one," he rumbled.

Cry's smile fell, and she exhaled. "I am, too. If I'd known about him, I might have been able to save him, but… I didn't, and I couldn't."

"You can try again, though," Farkas said, hopefully. "Now that you know it's a possibility?"

Cry glanced over at Vilkas, who lowered his gaze. "Maybe," she said in response to Farkas's question.

"And you're sure you want to travel today?" Aela asked her.

Cry nodded. "I want to get out of this damn place," she said, and Aela smiled slightly, relieved to see that her Harbinger's fire hadn't been extinguished completely.

"If you're sure," she said, and then she glanced at Vilkas. "Do you want me to write the letters?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Vilkas answered, lifting his head. "I want to talk to Cry about a few things, in private."

Aela nodded, and went to pull Farkas away from her. Farkas let his hand linger in Cry's for as long as he could, and Cry managed another smile for him.

"I'll be all right," she whispered, and Farkas sighed before letting go of her hand and allowing Aela to pull him out of the room.

Once the door was shut, Vilkas moved to the bed and settled down beside it, in the same position Farkas had been in moments before. For a long time, the two of them merely gazed at one another without speaking, mostly because they didn't need to.

Finally, however, Vilkas let out a heavy breath and tipped his head forward until his forehead rested against the bed's mattress.

"I know that… apologizing isn't going to help you, or even me, but -"

"Wait, what?"

Vilkas hesitated a moment before speaking: "I just… I was going to apologize, for not protecting you. I figured you wouldn't have wanted to hear it last night, or wouldn't have remember me doing it, so I decided to wait until today."

Cry reached over and tugged on his hair, in order to raise his head so she could look him in the face. "Listen to me, very closely," she said, her voice dangerously low. "You did nothing wrong. Do you understand? You had nothing to do with anything that happened yesterday, and even if you did, you are making up for it wonderfully."

Vilkas didn't seem convinced, and she tugged on his hair again, a bit gentler this time, and spoke in a softer tone. "I'm serious, Vilkas. I don't blame you whatsoever. I don't blame anyone. It happened, and now we have to deal with the aftermath, and that's all that this is."

"Do you promise?" he asked, sounding exhausted, and Cry nodded.

"I do."

"All right."

"Come here," Cry said, moving her hand to his shoulder. She drew him upwards and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you for everything you're doing for me, to make sure I'm safe."

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Don't act like it's some kind of blessing that I'm actively trying to keep you alive," he said, slightly annoyed. "You're the love of my life. Why would I want you dead?"

Cry smiled, with more strength than before, and she kissed him again. "Fair enough." Vilkas pushed himself to his feet, yawning, and Cry immediately frowned. "You didn't sleep in the bed last night."

"I didn't want to disturb you," Vilkas answered, stretching his arms up over his head and then shaking them out in an effort to wake himself up.

"You need some rest," Cry insisted.

"I'll be fine." He looked around the bedchamber. "We didn't bring much, but I should start packing what we did bring, if you're set on leaving this afternoon."

Cry nodded, and watched as he crossed the room to the wardrobe. He opened one of the doors on it, and his shoulders slumped.

"What is it?" Cry asked, furrowing her brows.

Vilkas reached into the closet and pulled out the dress she'd worn to the wedding. It was stained with blood, and no longer looked as nice as it had.

Cry sighed at the sight of it. "Maybe we should burn it."

Vilkas smiled at that. "Perhaps. It could be a bad luck charm." He turned the dress over in his hands. "It did look beautiful on you, though."

Cry blushed. "I wish I could've worn it again," she said, and then she waved her hand at it. "Burn it."

Vilkas laughed, and carried the dress over to the fireplace against one wall. He tossed the dress into it, and then went back and retrieved the shirt he'd been wearing, and did the same to it. Then, without much fanfare, he started a fire, and watched as the fabric caught the flames and began to blacken.

When they were fairly destroyed, he turned away from the fireplace and went back to the wardrobe to retrieve the clothes that still hung up inside it. He pulled it all out and moved to retrieve a knapsack to shove them into.

"So, how are we going to transport me?" Cry asked with a sly smile. "Am I going to have a bed made up in the back of a wagon?"

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Vilkas replied. "You can't ride a horse, so a wagon seems the most feasible choice."

Cry huffed. "I was joking. I don't want to submit to that."

"You'll have to, unfortunately, because I'm definitely not letting you sit up for the entire trip," Vilkas informed her, shoving the last bit of clothing into the knapsack. Cry winced.

"You didn't even fold them," she complained, and he shrugged. She sighed, annoyed, and rotated slightly in order to plump up her pillow. "So, does everyone know?"

"About what, love?" Vilkas questioned, closing the knapsack and setting it down on the floor near the door.

"The babe."

He paused, and glanced over his shoulder at her. She was watching him, her face carefully masked, and he shook his head. "Not everyone, but I'm sure they all have their suspicions."

"Oh." Cry glanced downwards, and Vilkas turned to face her. "I… I'm sad, I guess, but… I don't think I'm as sad as I would have been if we'd had known." She looked up again. "Do you understand?"

He nodded, and moved across the room to the bed again, this time sitting down on the edge of it next to her. He reached for her hand, and ran his thumb over the back of it. "I think that, because we didn't know, it makes it a little easier."

"I feel like I failed him," Cry whispered. "I feel like, if I had known, that I wouldn't have -"

"It's not your fault," Vilkas said quickly, noticing that her eyes were filling with tears again. "Didn't you just get finished growling at me about how you don't blame anyone for what happened? Why would you blame yourself?"

"Because I feel like I did know, and I just wouldn't admit it!"

Vilkas was taken aback, and he could do nothing but blink at her for a moment. "What?" he finally asked, and Cry lowered her gaze.

"Do you remember how I was sick, before we came to Windhelm? That we waited a few extra days to travel because I was vomiting?" She closed her eyes. "I think… I think that was because of the babe."

Vilkas suddenly felt very sick himself. How had he not guessed it? Why hadn't…

Cry watched as a very obvious darkness settled onto his face, and she panicked. "Vilkas?"

"Aela knew," he said lowly. "Aela knew, and she didn't say anything."

Cry stared at him for a moment. "Vilkas, that… that doesn't matter. Maybe she assumed we already knew. Maybe she didn't see any reason to say anything, because she thought that we already knew everything she had to say."

Vilkas, however, shook his head. "She knew," he said, "and she knew that we didn't know."

"How could you say that?" Cry asked him. "You don't know for sure -"

"But if she did?" Vilkas demanded, and Cry flinched at the rage in his voice. "What then?"

"Vilkas, stop it right now," Cry stated firmly, deciding she wasn't in the mood for this kind of attack on her friend by her husband. "If Aela had thought we didn't know, she would have told us herself. She most likely assumed that I knew because I was ill." She fixed Vilkas with a narrowed eyed glare. "So don't start attacking her just because you want someone to blame for our mistake."

Vilkas remained stiff shouldered for another moment, and then his shoulders slumped, and his head bowed. "You're right," he agreed, softly. "I apologize. I… I just -"

"It's all right," Cry said, her voice still rather firm, but quieter than it had been. "I understand, but what happened is entirely the fault of us not knowing, not because Aela didn't tell us." Vilkas nodded, tiredly, and Cry's expression softened. "And I know you're exhausted, so you're not thinking straight. Why don't you take a nap until we leave?"

Vilkas started to shake his head, but Cry leaned over and took his hand in hers. He lifted his gaze, and Cry blinked at him. "Please," she murmured. "Lay down with me."

While Cry was trying to convince her husband to sleep, Farkas was standing outside the room, arms crossed. He knew that the likelihood of anything happening to Cry while she was in the Palace, at this point, wasn't high, but he still felt it necessary to stand guard, because anything _could_ happen.

He heard voices before he saw who they belonged to, and he focused his attention on the direction they were coming from. After a moment, Hainin and Nazir appeared at the end of the hall, and it appeared that they were fixed in a heated debate.

"I told you that they weren't going to approve!" Nazir was saying.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Hainin responded stubbornly. "We already told Vilkas that they can stay, and they're going to stay. We can't just say that they're not allowed to come because _one_ of us isn't comfortable with it."

Nazir sighed. "And it is only Cicero."

"Exactly. And it's not like any of them are actually going to bother the Night Mother," Hainin added. "If anything, we'll just move her to Cicero's room while Cry and company are staying with us, if he's really so worried about it."

"And the idea of having the Night Mother in his room with him will probably thrill the clown," Nazir allowed, and then he raised and lowered his shoulders. "All right, fine. Whatever."

"Nazir -"

"I'm tired of arguing with you, Hainin," Nazir said shortly. "I agreed with you, and that's the end of it."

Hainin exhaled, but he noticed Farkas, so he didn't keep the argument going. Instead, he grinned at the Companion.

"Long time no see," he greeted, and Farkas narrowed his eyes at him.

"Don't try to get on my good side, assassin," he growled. "You may be a friend of Cry's, but that doesn't mean you have to be a friend of mine."

Hainin didn't stop smiling. "Whatever you say." He gestured towards the closed door of the room. "Are Cry and Vilkas in there?"

"What do you think?" Farkas questioned, still glaring.

"Farkas, I don't know why you don't like me, but you'll at least have to tolerate me, since you'll be staying in my home for the foreseeable future," Hainin began, calmly. "Because of the love I have for your Harbinger and Thane, I'm going to permit you to stay in my home, so that you can protect and take care of her. I think that, however, if you'd actually like to be able to, for lack of a better word, _enjoy_ staying in the Sanctuary, you might want to consider changing your attitude about me, and my fellow assassins."

Farkas continued to frown, but his eyes weren't as hard. "How about we simply don't speak to one another?" he suggested.

Hainin smiled again. "Sounds good to me." He gestured to the door yet again. "Now, are Cry and Vilkas busy, or can Nazir and I go in and speak with them?"

Farkas turned around and opened the door slightly, to poke his head into the room. He spoke to someone inside, and then he turned back the other way.

"You can go in," he grunted, and opened the door wider.

"Thank you," Hainin said, pleasantly, and then he led the way into the room. Nazir avoided looking at Farkas, and followed after his Listener.

Hainin found Cry sitting up in bed. Vilkas lay with her, his head resting on her stomach. It appeared that he was fast asleep.

Cry, however, smiled softly at Hainin and Nazir. "Hi," she greeted, her voice a whisper. "Do you need something?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing this morning," Hainin replied, just as quietly. He nodded to Vilkas. "It seems he's a little worse off, though."

"He's exhausted," Cry answered, glancing down at her husband. She brushed a gentle hand through his hair. "I wish he wouldn't worry so much. We have things under control." She looked up at the assassins again. "Don't we?"

"As far as I know," Hainin replied. He glanced at Nazir, who raised an eyebrow in response. Hainin rolled his eyes upward, and then looked at Cry. "We have a minor problem with the idea of you staying at the Sanctuary, but it's nothing that can't be fixed."

"What's the issue?" Cry asked, frowning.

"Cicero is worried that you'll disturb something of ours," Nazir stated. "We've decided that it's not a big problem, and that there's a simple way to get around it, so don't worry."

Cry glanced between the two assassins for a moment. "If you're sure," she finally said, and then she returned her gaze to Vilkas. "Are you two going to travel ahead of us?"

"Yes," Hainin answered. "We were going to leave as soon as we finished speaking with you." He smiled, slightly. "It seems that you're doing all right, so we'll leave you alone."

"Thank you so much," Cry said. "We really do appreciate you and what you're doing for us."

Hainin shrugged. "It's not a big deal. We'll see you tomorrow, probably." He grinned at her, and then bowed, and walked from the room. Nazir lingered behind for a moment, and Cry glanced up.

"What is it?" she asked, and he let out a breath.

"I… I should tell you who I think is at least partially behind the attack," Nazir said. He glanced over his shoulder, and then walked closer to the bed. Crouching down beside it, he was careful not to wake Vilkas as he leaned towards her. "One of your Companions is not as loyal to you as you might think."

Cry paled, and she blinked at him, "Which one?"

"I don't want to say anything more, in case they find out I told you that much," Nazir answered, "but it's not any of the ones that are here with you, I promise."

"Nazir -"

He was already moving away, however, and before she could press him for more information, he ducked out of the room. Cry watched the closed door for several moments after his departure, and then she let out a sigh and looked down at Vilkas again.

She had a feeling she knew which Companion Nazir had been referring to, but she didn't know what she could do about it. There was no proof, even if Nazir had been telling the truth, and the last thing she needed on top of all her other problems was to have her Companions angry with her because she had dismissed one of them for no apparent reason.

She had no choice. The threat at home would have to wait to be dealt with until she went home, and was able to prove that they were actually a threat.

* * *

 **So... yeah.**

 **I'm realizing that maybe I should've called this part _The Aftermath_ , but... nah. _The Reaction_ is fine. **

**I'm in such a weird head space this week, guys. I had a long conversation with someone whose opinion I trust implicitly, and yet... I don't know if I want to take the advice they gave me.**

 **It sucks.**


	19. The Reaction - A New Living Situation

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Nina: Thank you for the advice. Sometimes someone who wants the best for you does not always know what's best. I'm still trying to figure out if that applies to this situation or not.**

 **Manu: You're a beautiful person for leaving a review on literally every chapter. Thank you so much for sticking around and waiting for the new one each week. I don't think Cry and Vilkas will have to suffer for much longer. Hopefully moving into the Sanctuary will help to calm things down, at least for a little while.**

* * *

 **The Reaction: A New Living Situation**

* * *

"Careful. You're moving _very_ fast," Vilkas observed, gripping Cry beneath the arm as he helped her from the wagon.

"I've been laying down for a long time," Cry stated. "I want to stand."

Vilkas helped her the rest of the way, and then placed a stabilizing hand on her back as she swayed once she was upright on solid, snowy ground.

"Woo," she said, holding out her arms. "This is a strange feeling." She glanced at him. "Is that bad?"

"Why would it be?" Vilkas asked her. "It's like you said; you haven't been upright since we left Windhelm. You're adjusting."

"I guess so," Cry said, and she glanced around. "I hate snow."

Vilkas smiled, and helped her settle down against the edge of the wagon, just as Farkas finished dismounting his horse, Calder right behind him. Both jogged over to where the wagon had stopped.

"Calder, I want you to go to the Sanctuary. Nazir and Hainin should have gotten there already. Check around, make sure they're ready for us," Vilkas ordered.

He nodded, and headed in that direction, away from where the party had stopped just outside of Dawnstar, a ways to the northeast of the city.

"Farkas, you stay here with Cry," Vilkas said. "If there's some trouble with us staying at the Sanctuary, then we'll need to stay at the inn, and I want to make sure we'll be safe there."

"Vilkas, there won't be any problems," Cry told him. "Hainin wouldn't have offered if he thought we wouldn't be welcome."

Vilkas merely leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll be back," he said, and then he climbed onto Skjor and rode off.

Cry sighed to herself, and Farkas glanced at her. "He just wants to be sure we always have a plan," he said.

"I know," Cry replied. "I just wish he'd relax, at least for a minute. We haven't come across any problems since the assassins at the wedding."

"And now we're going to, because you pointed that out," Farkas grumbled.

Cry smiled. "You're very pessimistic. I think you need to spend some time away from your brother."

"Well, seeing as how we're both going to be attached to you at all times for the foreseeable future, that doesn't seem to be a possibility," Farkas answered, crossing his arms.

"Damn," Cry said, feigning disappointment. "I had so much hope for you."

Farkas's serious expression didn't fade, and Cry gave up. No one would joke with her, and that was annoying. At least she'd be able to count on Hainin for that, hopefully. She didn't see why he wouldn't interact with her as he usually did.

She hadn't told Vilkas and Farkas, or anyone, about what Nazir had told her. She didn't want to give them all cause to worry, especially when there was nothing to be done about it, still. They needed proof, and Cry knew that Nazir wouldn't provide it, because he feared what they would do to the Brotherhood, to Hainin.

In truth, Cry felt the same. Clearly, they had connections, and if there was more than one person involved, that merely meant that more could be done to her friends and loved ones. She was already causing everyone so much stress; she didn't want to add onto it.

There was the sound of feet through the snow, and Farkas readied his sword, only to turn and see Aela coming up to them.

"Easy," she said to Farkas, panting.

"Anything on the perimeter?" he asked, sliding his sword away.

"No," Aela answered. "The Khajiit are setting up their camp on the outskirts of Dawnstar, but other than that, nothing."

Farkas's shoulders relaxed, slightly. Cry was smiling again. "It's times like these when I'm glad you're still a werewolf," she said to Aela.

The huntress shrugged. "I wouldn't have be, if Kodlak and the others hadn't dealt with Hircine, so you should thank him, if you see him again."

"I probably will," Cry said, and Farkas frowned at her tone. It was still light, but he sensed other underlying factors that made her statement weigh heavily in the air after she said it.

Farkas wasn't very bright, but he thought Cry was implying that she may be seeing Kodlak sooner than anyone thought.

"Cry," he said, and she looked at him. "You're going to be fine. We'll get through this."

Cry responded with a gentle smile, but that was all.

Time passed, Aela standing up on a rock nearby, her eyes narrowed against the wind, gazing around. Farkas stood protectively next to Cry, arms hanging at his sides, though he wasn't completely relaxed.

Vilkas returned first, and he immediately moved to discuss Aela's report with her. As soon as she assured him there was no impending threat, he walked over to where Cry was.

She grinned at him. "How fast did you ride?" she questioned, eyeing his flyaway hair.

"Not very. At least, I didn't think it was very fast," he replied. "Why?"

She laughed, and reached up to pat down his hair. Vilkas smiled himself and went to help her. Together, they managed to tame it, and then their eyes met.

"Better?" Vilkas queried, and Cry nodded. "Good. Don't want to look untidy for our hosts."

"Don't worry, Vilkas," a voice said, and they all turned to see Hainin approaching, grinning. "I often show up looking worse than a Hagraven. No one cares about vanity in our little home." He reached them, and took Cry's hand. "How was the journey?"

"Boring," Cry answered, and Hainin squeezed her hand.

"Lucky for you, life in the Sanctuary is far from boring, with Cicero living there," he said, and Cry smiled gratefully.

Hainin looked around at everyone present. "We're ready for you. Come on."

He released Cry's hand, and started in the direction he'd come from. Vilkas looked at Cry. "Do you want to walk?"

"Yes," Cry replied immediately, and then she placed a hand on his shoulder for support. "I'll need help, though."

Vilkas compiled, first helping her to stand, and then wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her upright.

"All right," Cry said, "let's go."

Together, she and the other Companions followed Hainin through the snow to their temporary home, Aela and Farkas leading the horses.

Once they'd reached the Black Door, which was what Hainin called the entrance to the Sanctuary, the Listener stepped up to it. Almost at once, the skull on the door eyes glowed, and it spoke: "What is life's greatest illusion?"

"Innocence, my brother," Hainin replied, rather cheerfully.

"Welcome home," the door said, and then it swung open.

"C'mon in," Hainin invited, pushing the door open wider.

With a look from Vilkas, Aela and Farkas left the horses and entered the Sanctuary first. He then, gently, moved Cry ahead of him, and guided her inside with a hand on the small of her back.

Cry was smirking at Hainin. "Not even children are innocent?" she questioned, and Hainin shook his head, following Vilkas inside and closing the door behind him.

"Has a child ever pointed at you? With their sticky little fingers? I don't care for that shit at all," he said, and Cry chuckled.

"Hey!" Hainin shouted, moving around her towards the edge of the wall down the hall. He leaned over it. "Our guests are here! If you're doing something not socially acceptable, you should stop doing it now!" He then turned back around to face the four Companions. "All right! So, do you want to meet everyone first, or do you want to go straight to your rooms?"

"I'd like to meet everyone," Cry said when the other three looked at her.

"Follow me, then," Hainin said, happily, and he started down the nearby stairs.

Farkas and Aela went down after him, and then Vilkas adjusted his grip on Cry and started down after them. Cry glanced around, taking in the stonework. It was rather chilly, but other than that, the Sanctuary seemed homey.

"So!" Hainin said, rather loudly. "Companions, this is the Dark Brotherhood. Dark Brotherhood, Companions."

Cry tilted her head as she examined the group of people sitting at the stone table in the center of the room the stairs had led down to. There were two dark haired females, both with bright orange eyes. Cry recognized one as the vampire that Hainin had been with when he'd come to find her at the Palace of the Kings to discuss the Elder Scroll. The other one was barely more than a child, and Cry's heart went out to her.

Nazir was seated there as well, along with several other non-descript looking assassins, whom, Cry was fairly sure, Hainin had never mentioned by name before.

The one other member of the Brotherhood that Cry knew was absent from the table, and from the room entirely.

"Where's Cicero?" Cry asked, looking at Hainin.

"He's hiding in his room," Hainin answered with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he'll come out when he gets hungry."

"Think again," Nazir said, studying the book he had in his hands.

Hainin sighed. "He took food?"

"Mmhm."

Hainin looked at the Companions. "He'll come out, eventually. Until he does, however… I'd suggest bolting your doors at night," he said, and then he gestured to the two women. "Serana all four of you have met."

"Yes," Cry agreed, smiling at the older vampire. "It's nice to see you again."

Serana merely dipped her head in response. Hainin nodded to the girl. "Babette you don't know, but now you do."

"Nice to meet you," Babette said, her voice vacant of emotion.

Hainin glared at both vampires for a moment, and then he looked at the Companions again, forcing a grin on to his face. "Oh! I almost forgot; one of your housecarls is here."

Cry furrowed her brows. "Just one?"

"Aside from Calder," Hainin responded with a nod. "I forget what he said his name was."

"Argis, then," Cry said, looking at Vilkas. "He was the one you sent a letter to, asking him to meet us here, wasn't he?"

"I sent one to Gregor, too. He was posted at the inn when I got there. I told him to wait for someone to come and fetch him." He was frowning. "I don't know where Rayya and Jordis are. Jordis, at least, should have gotten here before Argis."

Cry frowned to herself for a moment longer, and then she understood what must have happened. She looked at Vilkas again. "Jordis wasn't allowed to leave Solitude."

"What?" Vilkas asked in confusion, and Cry let out a breath.

"Elisif must have forbidden it."

"Why would she do that?" Hainin asked, and Nazir sighed, patiently.

"Because she didn't want Ulfric to be High King, and Cry was the one to put him on the throne," the Redguard explained.

"But that still doesn't make sense," Farkas said, slowly. "How would she have known?"

"I don't know," Cry answered, "but there's no other explanation. Jordis would've been here first, if she'd been able to travel." She exhaled. "I don't even want to consider other possibilities."

"And Rayya?" Aela asked.

"She'll be here by tomorrow," Cry responded. "Falkreath is far from Dawnstar."

"That's true," Vilkas said, and then he raised and lowered his shoulders. "We should talk with Argis and Calder about setting up a perimeter around the Sanctuary."

Farkas nodded, and Nazir rose from his chair. "I'll show you where we put their quarters," he said, and then he led the way down a hall.

Farkas followed him, glancing suspiciously around as he did so. The entire Sanctuary seemed _dank_ to him, and he didn't like it. He could only imagine how much Aela was hating it; it was rather closed in, _and_ underground.

Eventually, Nazir led him to a large, circular room, and gestured. There were numerous cots littering the center of the space. Calder and Argis took up two of them, which made the remaining beds, all empty, seem even larger in number.

Both housecarls leapt to attention when they saw Farkas. He'd never understood why, but it seemed that the rest of the housecarls looked to him for authority when Cry wasn't around. Farkas thought that, maybe, it was because he was the closest of the housecarls to her, personally, but he wasn't entirely sure.

All the same, he nodded to the two of them. "Cry is here," he said, and Argis's eyes lit up almost immediately.

"I haven't seen her in ages. How is she feeling, after everything?" he asked, and Farkas shrugged.

"As good as can be expected, probably." He liked Argis, felt like the two of them had similar personalities. Cry had proven as much when she'd called Farkas Argis multiple times.

"Well, that's good, I guess," Argis said, and then he walked over to where Farkas was standing, Calder behind him. "Does she need us?"

"Vilkas wants to discuss a perimeter," Farkas explained.

"That's a good idea," Calder said. "How big?"

"Don't know; we need to talk with him." He gestured with his head. "Come on."

The three housecarls followed Nazir back to the dining hall, to find that Cry had claimed a chair. She looked very tired, but she smiled brightly when she saw Argis.

"Hello, my Thane," he greeted, moving across the room to crouch down in front of her.

"It's good to see you, Argis," Cry responded, taking one of his hands. "How're things in Markarth?"

"Fine," Argis answered, lifting his head. "I've just been taking care of the house, and sitting in on meetings that you cannot attend."

"Good," Cry said, and then she glanced up at Vilkas, who'd cleared his throat. Cry sighed, and she looked back at Argis. "I hate to do this to you, but Vilkas is insisting that all my housecarls renew their vows. I won't drag you into something you don't want to deal with."

Argis didn't argue, merely drew his sword and swore his oath to her over it. Cry smiled at him, gratefully, and bid him to rise.

Once he had, and put his sword away, Vilkas stepped forward. "I know we don't have as many here as we were expecting, but I'd still like for there to be a perimeter around the Sanctuary, as well as for Cry to have a guard with her at all times."

"Vilkas, I don't think that's necessary, not here," Cry said, but Vilkas ignored her. No one missed this, and Farkas glanced at her. Cry, however, chose not to fight with her husband, and settled back into her chair with a shake of her head in Farkas's direction.

"How big of a perimeter, sir?" Calder questioned.

"A quarter of a mile, all directions," Vilkas responded, "checked every two hours."

"Even at night?" Aela asked, and Vilkas nodded.

"Especially at night."

"Then I'll take those," Aela said, crossing her arms.

"Aela -" Cry began, but the huntress merely shook her head.

"I can do it," she said.

Cry knew it was just as pointless to try and argue with Aela, and so she nodded, once. "If you get tired, however, I want you to ask someone to take your place," she said, firmly, and Aela dipped her head in agreement.

"Argis, have you heard from Jordis or Rayya?" Vilkas asked.

"Rayya sent a letter, saying that she'd make it here as soon as she could." Argis looked worried as he glanced at Cry. "I never got anything from Jordis."

"That's not a surprise," Cry sighed to herself. "They're probably intercepting her mail." She looked up at Vilkas again. "We should have taken her with us when we left Solitude."

Vilkas shook his head. "There's no helping it, now." He looked around at the three housecarls and Aela. "We'll have to make due until the others get here. We expect Rayya by tomorrow, and the others in the following days. Until then, I need you all to step up, to do your duties to the fullest extent, and then some. Can Cry and I count on you?"

All four nodded their heads, and Vilkas seemed to relax a miniscule amount. "Good, thank you." He looked at Argis. "I'd ask that you do the first perimeter check, since you've been here."

Argis nodded again. "Sure."

"I'll guard Cry," Farkas suggested, but Cry shook her head.

"You're going to get some rest," she said. Farkas began to argue, and she frowned at him. "You guarded me last night."

"I can do it," Calder said before Farkas could argue some more. Cry looked at him gratefully.

"Good idea," she said.

Farkas huffed out a breath, but submissively stalked out of the room once again, Aela behind him.

Cry turned to the assassins that had remained in the dining hall after the initial meeting, which were the four she knew the names of. "Thank you again for agreeing to let us stay here."

Neither of the vampires replied, but Hainin stepped in. "It's really not a big deal, so stop mentioning it. Seriously."

Cry nodded her head, and then she closed her eyes and inhaled. Her head was pounding; she really wanted to get some rest, but she didn't want to let any of them know she was so tired. They'd just arrived at the Sanctuary, and she'd been laying down for the entire trip from Windhelm. Surely all that rest wasn't good for her. She needed to do something.

Vilkas, however, had noticed her close her eyes and sink down in her chair. He knew she was exhausted, and, to be honest, so was he. He didn't want to take a nap, however, not until he was sure that the jester wouldn't be a problem.

However, that didn't mean Cry couldn't be shown to their room.

"Hainin," he began, and the Listener perked up. "You don't mind showing Cry to our accommodations, do you?"

"Vilkas -"

"Of course not," Hainin interrupted, rising from his chair. He moved over to where Cry sat in her chair, and offered her his arm. "Come along, my lady. I'll make sure you're comfortable."

Cry, to Vilkas's relief, laughed lightly, and took Hainin's arm in her hand. With both his and Vilkas's help, she was able to stand, and then she leaned into Hainin for support. "Come soon," she said to Vilkas, who nodded, and watched as Hainin led Cry out of the dining hall, Calder trailing after them.

He then turned to the three assassins still in the room with him. "Cicero. Is he going to be a problem?"

Nazir sighed. "He shouldn't be," he said. "Most likely, he'll sulk in his room until he runs out of food, and then he'll come out and be nothing but the annoying clown that he always is."

"I don't like the "shouldn't be" and "most likely" pieces," Vilkas said, narrowing his eyes.

"Vilkas, you don't need to worry." He was surprised to hear Serana speak, and he turned to look at the vampire. She was watching him, calmly. "We'll make sure Cicero isn't a nuisance."

Vilkas gazed at her for a moment, and then he dipped his head. "All right," he said, and then he let out a hoarse laugh and reached up to rub at his eyes. "Gods."

Nazir glanced at the two vampires, both of whom had, graciously, turned their attentions away from Vilkas. The Redguard looked at the Companion, and saw he'd left his hands over his face, and was standing rather still. Worried, Nazir walked over to him, and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder.

"Perhaps you should get some sleep, too," he suggested. Vilkas lowered his hands, and glanced sideways at him. Nazir smiled softly. "You don't have to worry, Vilkas; Cry is safe here."

Vilkas gazed at him for a moment, and then he smiled back. "I believe you," he said, quietly. "I just -"

"I know," Nazir responded, and then he moved his hand to the Companion's back. "Come on; I'll take you to your room."

Vilkas allowed him to lead him out of the dining hall. It didn't take them long to reach the room he'd be sharing with Cry, identifiable by the Calder that was already posted outside the door. There was a chair outside the door as well, but Calder was standing, attentive.

"Hainin's still in there with her," he said to the two of them. "I think he's helping her get comfortable."

Nazir looked at Vilkas. "You'll be all right?"

Vilkas nodded. "Yes. Thank you again, Nazir. Words can't express -"

"So don't try to make them," Nazir stated. "Things will just get awkward."

"Fair enough," Vilkas said with a small laugh, and then he walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

Hainin was indeed helping Cry get comfortable, situating pillows behind her, and making sure the blankets weren't confining.

"If you need anything, you just have to tell me," he was saying as Vilkas crossed the room to the bed. "I'll get you whatever it is, even if I have to go to Riften." He paused. "Well, maybe not, but the sentiment is real, I promise."

Cry reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. "Hainin," she said, softly, and he paused, looking down at her. "Thank you, so much."

Hainin smiled slightly. "Anything for you, savior of the world," he said, and then he turned his head and kissed her palm. "I'll see you later."

He left the bedside and nodded to Vilkas as he walked out of the room and disappeared into the hallway. Once the door was closed, Vilkas settled down on the edge of the bed as well, and took Cry's hand in his own.

"Please sleep," Cry said to him, and he smiled tiredly.

"I'm going to, but I wanted to discuss something with you, first."

Cry frowned. "What?"

"How are you doing? Really?"

Cry gazed up at him for a moment, and then her lip quivered, and she was forced to look away. "I… I'm not doing that great," she admitted. "I… I know it's crazy, Vilkas, but… I feel like I'm _missing_ something, something important, and… and I _know_ there's nothing I can do about it, and that just makes it so much _worse_."

Vilkas nodded, and Cry inhaled sharply, to keep the tears back. "I don't know how to stop feeling like this," she whispered.

"You don't need to," Vilkas told her. "You lost a babe, love. It's perfectly natural to feel this way. I know… I know that what _I'm_ feeling isn't even nearly to the extent of what you're feeling, but… you're not alone in this, and you shouldn't feel as though you have to hide anything, from anyone."

"Not everyone knows," Cry whispered, looking up at her from beneath her eyelashes, which were heavy with tears, and Vilkas squeezed her hand.

"So maybe we need to tell them," he suggested, softly, and Cry lowered her gaze again.

"Maybe," she finally whispered, and Vilkas leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Think about it. If you could tell people, it might help you to feel better," he said, and then he moved off of the bed to get dressed down.

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 **Fuck, Hainin is my favorite OC I've ever written. He's the best boy.**


	20. The Reaction - Breakthrough

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

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 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: I'm back! And I'm glad you agree about Hainin; I want to write more of him, sometime in the future. I just need to think of the right story to put him in. I'm sure something will come to me.**

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 **Big ole reveal in this chapter! Get hyped for it!**

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 **The Reaction: Breakthrough**

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Hainin watched as Nazir ladled stew into a third bowl, and took it when the Redguard turned to hand it to him.

"What is it tonight?" the Listener questioned.

"Snow hare," Nazir responded, sounding rather proud. "Aela caught three of them on her last patrol before she left."

"Good for her," Hainin said, turning away. He carried the bowl over to the table and set it down with the first two. He then returned to Nazir and crossed his arms, watching as he filled a fourth bowl. "Nazir."

"Hm?"

"I don't think I ever thanked you, for agreeing to let them stay here."

Nazir paused, and glanced over at him. "Do you feel the need?" he queried, and Hainin shrugged his shoulders, taking the bowl from him.

"I don't know. If it had only been a week, maybe not, but it's been three."

Nazir returned his ladle to the stew, picking up a fifth bowl. "It doesn't matter," he said. "They're not a nuisance, or anything. They hunt for us, and they don't ask us to do things for them." It was his turn to shrug as he handed the bowl off to Hainin. "It really hasn't been a problem."

Hainin looked relieved. "I'm glad," he said, and then he carried the bowl to the table.

"How is Cry feeling?" Nazir queried.

"Better," Hainin replied. "Although, I think she's moved out of the mourning stage into the anger stage."

"What do you mean?"

Before Hainin could answer, Cry did it for him, by screeching at the top of her lungs: "STOP CODDLING ME! I AM NOT A CHILD!"

"Ah," Nazir said, finishing with the sixth bowl of stew.

"Yep." Hainin shook his head, and started down the hallway towards Cry and Vilkas's shared bedchamber. Calder stood outside of it, cowering, and Hainin smiled at him.

"Not cooperating, is she?" he asked.

"She's been like this for three days," Calder said. "Yesterday, she threw a boot at Gregor because he tried to help her stand." He shook his head. "We should make the women guard her; they handle it better."

Hainin patted him on the shoulder. "Go get some food," he suggested. "I'll take care of it."

Calder looked relieved, and he immediately jogged off down the hall. Hainin steadied himself before pushing his way into the bedchamber.

Cry sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed and an ugly scowl on her face. She glared at him as he entered the room.

"Go away," she growled.

"It's dinner time," Hainin told her, walking over to the bed. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Who cares?" Cry grumbled, looking away.

"Uh… everyone?" Cry snorted, and Hainin sighed. "Cry, you need to stop this."

"Stop _what_?" she demanded. "I'm not doing anything."

"Exactly," Hainin responded. "You're sitting in this room all day, doing nothing but take out your aggression on the people who are just trying to help you." Cry didn't say anything, and Hainin titled his head at her. "Listen, I know you're still grieving, but this… it's not healthy, sweetheart. You need to stop it, and start moving on."

"Oh, excuse me," Cry said, dryly. "I forgot about all the babies _you've_ lost that give you all kinds of knowledge about this kind of thing."

Hainin gazed at her for a moment. "Cry," he started at last, "what do you know about my family?"

That seemed to get her attention. She looked at him. "Not much. You've never talked about it to me."

"That's because there isn't much to talk about," Hainin answered. "We were sort of…" He sighed. "Well, we were upper class, back in Cyrodiil."

"You were?" Cry asked in surprise, and Hainin nodded.

"Some kind of relation to the Emperor, I don't know. He was my father's fifth cousin or something. Anyhow, I was my parents' only child, and so I was sort of… actually, I was _really_ important. I was going to be the one to take over everything."

"So… what happened?" Cry questioned, looking interested.

"I decided that I didn't want to be an aristocrat. It didn't suit me. So, I left." Hainin shrugged. "It made my father mad, but my mother was more accepting. Once he passed, she used some of his money to move to Falkreath, and that was where she lived until she died."

"What about your family's wealth? Did she leave it to you?" Cry questioned, and Hainin smiled slightly.

"You'd think so, but no. I didn't want it, so I told her to do whatever she wanted to with it." He exhaled. "Cry, my parents weren't able to have children. My mother lost three babies before they decided that it was unlikely they would produce." He gestured to himself. "So, they went to the orphanage, and they picked me. I was a baby at the time, and they didn't tell me I wasn't their real son until I left Cyrodiil."

He chuckled. "I guess my father was so angry that a _lot_ came out the night before I left. It was as though he was trying to make me angry, by telling me that they'd rescued me." Hainin rolled his eyes to himself, and then he looked at Cry. "My mother left all our money to that orphanage."

Cry gazed at him for a moment, and then she glanced downwards. "What… what was that story supposed to do for me?" she asked, softly.

"I just wanted to point out that I know more about losing children than you thought I did. I was the product of lost children, I suppose." Hainin reached over and placed his hand on hers. "But I also want you to know that losing a child isn't the end of the world. You have to move on, like my parents did. I know that you'll still miss the babe you never got to meet, but… there's another one waiting for you, whether it's yours and Vilkas's, or one at the orphanage who needs a good home."

Cry gazed at him for a moment, and then, much to Hainin's relief, she smiled, slightly.

"Thank you, Hainin," she said, softly. "I appreciate you telling me that. I needed to hear it, but I don't think anyone knew how to say it."

"Lucky you have me, then," Hainin said, and then he rose from the bed. "Come eat."

Cry exhaled, but nodded. "All right."

She pushed herself off the bed as well, and followed Hainin into the hallway. He led the way down it to the dining hall, where they found most of the house Carl's seated at the table, chatting and eating stew. They all looked up, however, when Cry entered the room, and they started to rise from their chairs.

"No, please, keep eating," Cry said, holding up her hands.

The housecarls lowered themselves back into their seats, but they kept their gazes on her.

Cry glanced at Hainin, who nodded encouragingly. She turned back to the housecarls and said, "I apologize for my behavior this last week or so. I… I was angry, and I ended up taking it out on everyone who didn't deserve it. I hope you all will forgive me."

"Of course we will, my Thane."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was a natural response to what happened."

A chorus of acceptance to her apology rose from the housecarls, and Cry relaxed. Hainin gestured towards an empty seat.

"Come sit," he said, leading her to it with a hand on her back.

Cry settled down in the chair, and smiled gratefully when Nazir set a bowl down in front of her.

"We got a letter from Vilkas," he said. "He wrote that he'll be back by Fredas."

Vilkas had gone to Whiterun for a few days to make sure things were going smoothly at Jorrvaskr. Nazir had considered telling Vilkas about what he knew, concerning Cry's assassins, but he'd eventually decided against it, because if Cry hadn't told Vilkas anything, then there was no reason for him too. Clearly, Cry was keeping it quiet for a reason.

"That's good," Cry said. She was speaking quietly. "I miss him." She looked around at all those seated at the table. "Is Farkas on patrol?"

"Yes," Valdimar responded. "He should be back soon."

Cry nodded, and spooned up some stew.

Hainin joined Nazir at the head of the table, and rested his hands against it, leaning down to speak in his ear. "Where's Cicero?"

"I sent him and Serana out on a job while you were in Dawnstar," Nazir responded, just as quietly. "They shouldn't be back for a few days."

Hainin nodded. Cicero had emerged from his room a week into Cry's arrival at the Sanctuary, and, although he liked Cry herself, he didn't seem to approve of everyone who was staying with her. He didn't hide his distaste, either, and openly mocked several of them, mostly Aela, who he said smelled like wet dog.

For that reason, Hainin and Nazir had been sending him out of the Sanctuary as much as possible. In this instance, Aela had gone with Vilkas back to Whiterun, but she'd be back soon, so Nazir had done good by sending Cicero out on a job.

Hainin straightened back up and glanced around the dining hall. All of the housecarls seemed to have settled in at the Sanctuary rather comfortably. Calder and Argis didn't seem to be bothered by their new home whatsoever, probably because they'd been at the Sanctuary the longest. Rayya, who'd arrived the day following Cry's arrival, was also fairly comfortable, mostly because she enjoyed being with all her companions.

Valdimar and Gregor, who'd come to the Sanctuary two weeks ago, had settled in as best as two burly Nords could, mostly ignoring anyone who they didn't want to talk to. Iona, who'd only arrived a few days prior, was still situating herself, but she seemed to be doing rather well.

That put all of the housecarls at the Sanctuary, including Farkas, but excluding Jordis, whom no one had heard from whatsoever. Hainin knew Cry was worried about her, but Hainin didn't think Elisif would harm the Sword-Maiden, so he wasn't. In fact, if anything, he was relieved Jordis wasn't at the Sanctuary, because she was _scary_.

Just as Hainin was settling down with food of his own, there was an abrupt pounding on the door to the Sanctuary. He immediately looked at Nazir in alarm. The Redguard had paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, and was glancing upwards in the direction of the door.

"What do you think that was?" he questioned.

"It sounded like someone was knocking," Cry replied, setting her own spoon down.

As though to agree with her conclusion, the knocking occurred again, louder and almost more desperate this time.

Hainin frowned to himself, and rose from his chair. Cry gestured towards Gregor to go with him. Together, the two of them walked up the stairs and to the Sanctuary's door. Hainin glanced at Gregor, who nodded, his sword out and ready. Hainin turned to the door and, inhaling, pulled it open just wide enough to look outside.

What he found there made his eyes widen in disbelief.

"Brynjolf? What are you doing here? And what _happened_ to you?" he asked, gazing in shock at Brynjolf, who was slumped against the door, looking exhausted. He had a large wound on the side of his head as well, that looked as though it needed immediate treatment.

"Ziris… assassin…" Brynjolf managed, the two words slurred but relatively understandable.

Hainin gaped at him. "You can't be serious!"

"Hainin, what is it?" Nazir appeared at his side, and the Redguard looked at Brynjolf for about one second before exclaiming, "Gods, what happened to you?"

Brynjolf merely shook his head, and Hainin quickly moved outside to help him into the Sanctuary. Nazir and Gregor helped him get Brynjolf down the stairs, where they placed him in a vacant chair.

Almost immediately, Cry hurried over and squatted down in front of the thief as Iona rushed around in the background for healing supplies.

"Bryn? What happened? Who did this to you?" Cry demanded.

Brynjolf seemed to have lost awareness, however, because he didn't respond. Cry exhaled, and accepted the potion, bowl of water, and cloth that Iona carted over to her. She forced Brynjolf's mouth open and dumped half the potion into it. The thief choked most of it back up, and Cry chased it with the rest.

When the potion was gone, she reached for the cloth and dunked it into the water. Looking up at Hainin, she began to clean Brynjolf's head wound. "What did he say?"

Hainin glanced around at everyone. The housecarls had gathered in a loose circle around Brynjolf's chair. Nazir stood off to the side, arms crossed. They were all watching him.

"He… he said 'Ziris', and then the word 'assassin'," Hainin said, quietly.

Cry, who'd turned her attention to Brynjolf, looked up at Hainin once more in alarm.

"What?" she asked, her voice hushed with disbelief.

"I don't know what he meant, exactly, but…" Hainin shrugged one shoulder, uncomfortably. "It seems pretty straightforward."

"Damn right it does!" Valdimar exclaimed. "Dirty thief!"

There was some agreement from the other housecarls, but Cry silenced them all with a stern look. She then turned back to Brynjolf, and finished cleaning off his wound.

"We'll know more when he wakes up," she said, taking the bandages that Iona was holding. She wrapped them around Brynjolf's head as she continued, "Until then, we won't make assumptions."

"Assumptions?" Calder sounded surprised. "My Thane, doesn't it seem obvious, based on what Brynjolf said?"

"It seems incriminating, not obvious," Cry responded. "I won't go accusing anyone until I know for sure what Brynjolf meant."

"And once you do, and find out we're right?" Gregor questioned, cracking his knuckles.

Cry frowned at him. "We won't act hastily, that's for sure." She looked around at all her housecarls. "I mean it. No one is to do anything until I can discuss this with Brynjolf, and then discuss whatever he tells me with Vilkas. Understood?"

There was a general grumble of discontented consent, and Cry looked at Brynjolf once more. "We should take him to a bed," she decided.

Gregor and Valdimar grudgingly picked up Brynjolf and carried him off towards the housecarls' sleeping area. When they were gone, Cry turned to Hainin and Nazir.

"What do you think?" she asked them, quietly.

"I don't know," Nazir answered honestly.

"Me, either," Hainin added, frowning to himself. "It… I don't…" He let out a breath and focused on the floor to get his words together. "I don't see why Ziris would want you dead."

Cry nodded, and then she glanced over her shoulder in the direction her two housecarls had carried Brynjolf. "Do you… do you think it's because of what… what happened between Brynjolf and I?"

The two assassins exchanged a glance, and then Nazir looked at her again. "Do you?"

"I don't want to, but… I don't know what other reason she would have. I thought… I mean, we weren't friends, but I didn't think we disliked one another." Cry shook her head. "I certainly don't dislike _her_."

Hainin lowered his gaze again. "It… it isn't nice to think about," he said, quietly. "I mean, I like Ziris, too. I don't know… I don't know what would've provoked her to do something like this, if she did, but… I mean…" He shrugged. "I guess you never really know someone, do you?"

Cry closed her eyes. "No," she said, softly. "I suppose you don't."

* * *

Ziris frowned into her mug of ale. Her mind was racing, and yet she couldn't separate any of the thoughts from the others. She knew that there was plenty to think about, to do something about, but she couldn't focus on any of it, and so she was drinking instead.

 _"Why would you do something like this?"_

 _"I wanted to."_

 _"But_ why _?"_

She closed her eyes as the memory broke free from the mess of thoughts in her head. The worst part was that she hadn't had an answer to Brynjolf's question. She didn't know why she'd decided to begin a scheme to kill the Dragonborn. She didn't know what the Dragonborn had done to deserve her anger. She didn't know why she'd hit Brynjolf over the head with a rock and left him in the forest to die. She didn't know.

And Ziris _always_ knew. She always had a reason to do something. She never acted without thinking first. Here she was, though, having spent the last three months doing nothing but act without thinking. And now she was facing the consequences.

If Brynjolf wasn't dead, he was certainly already wherever Cry had disappeared to, and had told her what he'd learned. Which meant it wouldn't be long before they were coming for Ziris, which meant she needed a plan. She needed to decide whether she was going to run, or if she was going to stay put, in the cistern, where she belonged, and let them come.

That would've been a fine option, if she'd assured that no one in the Guild would believe Brynjolf. She didn't doubt, however, that they would side with the second-in-command over her any day, simply because of what had happened before, with Mercer.

Her head shot upwards at the thought. _Mercer. I need to talk to Mercer!_

She left her mug of ale where it was on the bar and hurried into the cistern and up the ladder outside. She immediately moved to the closest shadow she could see, and, without hesitation, stuck her arm into it.

Almost at once, she was plunged into darkness.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the Cistern. It was vacated, aside from a lone figure standing behind the Guild Master's desk.

Ziris walked over to it, and winced when she saw the expression on Mercer's face. The two of them stood opposite one another for several silent seconds. She felt as though she was back in the time period when she'd just joined the Guild.

After a long time, Mercer shook his head. "I cannot believe you've gotten yourself into this situation," he said, sounding truly disappointed.

"I can't either," Ziris said, quietly.

"I thought you were better off than me, that I hadn't influenced you to the point where you would make a bad decision like this one," Mercer continued. "What were you thinking?"

"That's the problem; I wasn't," Ziris explained. "I'm never not thinking, and the one time I didn't -"

"You've ruined everything. You do realize this, don't you?" Mercer shook his head. "You're going to be killed. They won't stop until they find you." He paused. "Unless…"

"Unless?" Ziris asked, looking at him hopefully.

"There were others involved, weren't there?" She nodded, suddenly feeling rather cautious, and Mercer shrugged before crossing his arms. "There you are, then. Make a deal; give up their names in exchange for your life."

Ziris shook her head. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" Mercer demanded. "I taught you to be self-reliant, Ziris. Do whatever you need to in order to keep yourself alive!"

"It's not a moral thing!" Ziris retorted. "Nazir was a part of it; he might have already given away one name."

"So? How many other names do you have?"

"Just one, but they stopped coming to the meetings when the first attempt in Solitude failed."

Mercer huffed out a breath through his nose. "Then you'll have to take a gamble, and hope that the Redguard didn't give the other name away."

Ziris let out a breath. "Is that really all I can do?" she asked, quietly, and Mercer nodded.

"They'll hunt you down, little raven, just like the three of you followed me. There's no point in running."

Ziris knew he was right, had known that there was no reason to run even before coming to speak with him, but hearing it aloud made a sense of cold dread enter her chest. She was going to die, unless she managed to talk her way out of it.

She'd never been good at that.

Mercer saw the expression on her face, and walked around the desk to her. "You'll get through this," he told her.

"No, I won't," she said, softly. She looked him directly in the eye. "I'm going to die."

Mercer gazed at her. "And you're all right with that?"

Ziris released a hoarse laugh. "Of course not, but I guess I'll have to be."

"No, you don't," Mercer said, quickly. "You can beat this."

Ziris offered him a look. "Why were you allowed to give up, but I'm not?" Mercer didn't respond, and Ziris held up her hands. "Exactly."

"You'll be putting the Guild in Brynjolf's hands," Mercer said, and Ziris shrugged.

"Maybe it was supposed to be that way, and that's why all this is happening," she suggested.

Mercer frowned at her. "You won't go down without a fight, at least?" he asked, and Ziris smiled.

"Of course not. You taught me better than that."

"Good." Mercer waved his hand at her. "Get out of here. You need to get started on convincing the Guild to believe you and not Brynjolf. You can at least do that, if nothing else."

Ziris nodded. "I can try, anyhow. Brynjolf is more popular than me, because of _you_." She grinned at him. "I think you made me this way."

"I would apologize, but that isn't a thing I do," Mercer said, and then Ziris was back to the real world, shivering from the coldness of the shadow she'd just been in. She rose slowly to her feet, and, exhaling, nodded to herself. If she was going to die, she would definitely need to go down in a fight.

There was simply no other way she'd do it. She'd refuse to die otherwise.

* * *

 **Huh. Bet nobody was expectin' _that_. **


	21. The Reaction - Discussion and Conclusion

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: Funny how things start to go in a way that makes other things seem likely, isn't it? I hadn't planned for Ziris to be the one to do it, either, and yet... that's exactly where we stand.**

 **Guest: Yep. It's happened. Unlikely, and unplanned, but it happened.**

 **Nina: It's safe to say that Ziris has gone down a road less traveled, unless we're talking about a road traveled by Guild Masters...  
Oh... That might have something to do with what she'd did...**

* * *

 **The Reaction: Discussion and Conclusion**

* * *

"What?" Vilkas demanded, scowling.

"Brynjolf said that Ziris admitted to being part of what happened to me," Cry answered, calmly. "He confirmed it when he woke up last night."

Vilkas paced around in a circle for a moment, his glare focused on the ground. Cry watched him, gnawing on her thumbnail, and waited for him to say something.

After several seconds, he looked up, and he seemed much calmer. "Is he still here?"

Cry nodded. "His head wound was really bad. He said that Ziris hit him with a rock." She shook her head. "I think she was trying to kill him."

"Has she lost her damn mind?" Aela asked, rather emotionlessly, and Cry shrugged. "Seems like it."

Vilkas and Aela had returned earlier that day. Cry had waited to tell them the news about Ziris until they'd relaxed a little, and eaten something. Now, however, she was wondering if she should have waited even longer.

At least Vilkas hadn't broken anything yet, which was an improvement from Farkas's response. Cry would have to give Hainin some gold for the looking glass Farkas had thrown a book at.

"I think I want to hear this story for myself," Vilkas said.

Cry nodded. "He's been staying with the housecarls."

Vilkas walked away from her and Aela, who had her arms crossed and was studying Cry. The Dragonborn glanced at her. "What?"

"How did you take the news?"

"I mean… I was a little shocked, and definitely confused, because I don't think I've ever given Ziris a reason to dislike me," Cry said, shrugging her shoulders, "but… I guess I did, and I intend to find out what it was."

"Are we going to kill her?" Aela asked, and Cry shook her head at once.

"Of course not. That's not something we do. I refuse to stoop to her level."

"You might not want to, but Hainin wouldn't have any qualms with it," Aela said with a raise of her shoulders.

She wasn't incorrect. As Aela and Cry spoke, Hainin was in the master bedchamber, planning his own assassination attempt while Nazir looked on.

"You know," the Redguard began after a few moments. "Ziris is probably going to make a run for it."

"No, she won't," Hainin responded without looking up from whatever he was doing to his bow.

"How do you know?"

"Because, that's what her mentor did," Hainin said. He glanced up, and met Nazir's gaze. "She wouldn't make the same mistake. Her mentor was cornered like a rat because they chased him; Ziris will have learned from that, and chosen not to be trapped the same way. She won't go down without a fight; and that's why we have to assassinate her."

Nazir let out a sigh as Hainin returned his attention to his weapon. "Have you spoken to Cry about this?"

"I don't need to," Hainin replied calmly. "She might not be all right with it, but she doesn't need to be."

"Why's that?" Nazir questioned, and Hainin lifted his bow to admired his new string.

"Because," he said again, "Farkas performed the Black Sacrament."

"Didn't we agree that no one else needed to know, assassin?" Nazir turned to see that Farkas had appeared in the doorway of the bedchamber.

"Nazir is part of the Brotherhood, too, Farkas," Hainin pointed out. "He was going to hear about it, eventually."

"I can't believe you performed the Sacrament," Nazir said, raising an eyebrow at the Companion. "I thought you didn't approve of our type of business?"

"I don't," Farkas said, "but the thief deserves it. She plotted to kill Cry, and almost succeeded. She needs to be stopped before something happens again."

 _He didn't mention a first attempt. Cry never told anyone what I tried to do, or even that someone had already tried to kill her._ Nazir smiled to himself at the thought.

"If Hainin can manage to take her down with little mess, then all the better," Farkas was saying. "I'm even going to pay you for it."

"Which is unnecessary, considering I'd kill anyone who threatened my friend for free, but whatever makes you happy," Hainin said. He set his bow down on the bed and reached for his quiver of arrows. Nazir, seeing this, pulled himself out of his head and frowned at Hainin.

"You're not thinking of heading off now, are you?"

"Of course I am," Hainin said, slinging his quiver over his shoulders. "The sooner we take care of this, the sooner things can get back to normal." He looked at Nazir in confusion. "Isn't that what you want?"

"I _want_ you to talk to Cry about this, first," Nazir told him.

"Like I said, I don't need to, because Ziris is a contract kill, now," Hainin said. He put his bow over his shoulders as well. "Since she is a contract kill, it is now my job as an assassin to kill her. If I don't I fail the contract." He grinned. "Usually, that leads to you getting mad at me, and me not getting the good loving for at least two days. That is not something I want."

Farkas scattered as soon as the topic arose, and Nazir rolled his eyes upwards. "Must you?"

"Yes," Hainin replied, rather easily. He walked over to where Nazir stood and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I'll be gone about a week. Don't worry about me; I'll take care of this."

"And what do I tell Cry?" Nazir asked as Hainin walked around him towards to door of the bedchamber.

Hainin paused, gazing down at the ground. After a moment, he looked up, and grinned again. "Just tell her I'm saving her life for a second time," he said, and then he left the room and was gone.

Meanwhile, Vilkas was interrogating Brynjolf, while a few of the housecarls looked on in interest.

"I feel like you're not telling me everything," Vilkas said.

To Brynjolf's credit, he was being very patient with Vilkas, despite how badly his head was hurting from all the questions that were being thrown at him.

"That might be because I don't remember everything," he said.

Vilkas frowned at him. "This is not the time to get smart with me, thief," he said, dryly. "I need to know for certain that your Guild Master was part of the plan to take my wife's life."

"Yes, she was," Brynjolf told him. "I don't know how many more ways I can say it. She told me so, flat out, and then proceeded to hit me with a rock, probably with the intention of killing me." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyeballs until he saw stars. "Vilkas, my head hurts. I traveled all the way from the Rift, injured, to tell your wife that a person I've trusted for years was part of the plan to kill her." He lowered his hands and looked at the Companion. "I would just like to get some rest."

Vilkas inhaled through his nose. "Fine," he said, after a moment. "We'll discuss this more, later, however."

"I'll bet," Brynjolf agreed, laying down onto his cot.

Vilkas stalked from the room back towards the dining hall, where he found Cry and Aela still standing, discussing something quietly between themselves. Farkas stood close by, his arms crossed over his chest.

Cry looked over at him as he entered the room. "What did he say?" she asked.

"Confirmed what you said," Vilks replied, rubbing at his eyes. "I can't believe this. Of all the people in Skyrim, it had to be the leader of a powerful faction."

"Sir?" He glanced over his shoulder and found Rayya and Iona standing behind him. Iona dipped her head to him. "What do you plan on doing about the Guild Master?"

"I don't know yet," Vilkas answered. He moved further into the dining hall and settled down at the table, glancing at Cry. "What do you want to do?"

Cry shook her head. "I'm not sure. It's still hard to come to terms with." She studied the ground for a moment. "Do you think we could make a deal with her?"

"What sort of deal?" Aela asked.

"I don't know. Information in exchange for her life?" Cry let out a laugh. "That sounds completely ridiculous. We're assuming that Ziris will even cooperate."

"That does seem unlikely, at this point," Vilkas agreed, frowning down at the top of the table. "She may be too unstable to consider a deal. Besides, what information could she offer to us?"

Cry glanced around at everyone, and then she let out a breath of air. "Names." They all looked at her, and she went on, "The names of the other people involved in the plan."

"You think there were more than just Ziris behind it?" Farkas asked her, and she shrugged.

"It's possible. I just… I don't see Ziris acting on something like this alone." Cry glanced at them all. "Of course, I don't know her like I thought I did, but -"

"- but this isn't something that she would do." Brynjolf had appeared behind the two female housecarls, who parted to let him into the dining hall. Vilkas frowned at him as he crossed the room to reach the table.

"I thought you wanted to rest," he said.

"I heard you talking, and thought I might be able to offer my input, since I know Ziris better than anyone here," the thief answered. He looked at Cry as he settled down heavily into a chair. "You're right; it isn't something she'd do, not on her own, at any rate."

"Do you have any idea of what could have changed?" Cry asked him. "Any clue as to why she may have decided that she wanted me dead?"

"No," Brynjolf replied with a small shake of his head, "which is odd. Ziris never does anything without a reason. Since there's no reason, that we can think of, for her wanting you dead, there was clearly something that… snapped, I suppose."

"That's a kind way of saying she lost her mind," Aela commented, scowling to herself. "Your Guild Master is insane."

"No, I don't think she is," Brynjolf said, slowly. "I think… I think that this is exactly how she's always been, and that it was born from who mentored her, and how much of an influence he had on her life."

"He stole from the Guild, didn't he?" Cry asked, and Brynjolf nodded.

"Many times. He was the reason that the Guild was close to going broke for so many years. He also killed the Guild Master before him." He exhaled. "I had hoped that Ziris hadn't been affected by what he'd done, but… it seems that Mercer Frey had a much larger effect on her life and personality than I'd thought."

"So there's no helping it," Farkas said. "This is who she is, and there's nothing to be done about it?"

"Unfortunately," Brynjolf answered, bowing his head until it rested on the table.

Farkas seemed to relax, a little. Cry raised an eyebrow when she noticed this, but she didn't draw attention to it. Instead, she looked at Vilkas.

"Maybe there's a way we can get around this without causing harm," she suggested. "We could make a deal; she can promise not to try and hurt me or any of us ever again, in exchange for her life."

"She won't take it," Brynjolf muttered before Vilkas could say anything. "Ziris is stubborn, and if she wants you dead, Cry, she'll… she'll keep trying, until she's unable to."

"Brynjolf -"

"So, what you're saying is that she needs to die, or there's not going to be any change whatsoever," Vilkas concluded, cutting Cry off, and Brynjolf nodded his head against the table. Vilkas looked at his wife. "Then it seems we have no choice."

"Vilkas, that isn't who we are," Cry told him.

"So we'll have the Brotherhood do it," Vilkas said. "I'll perform the Black Sacrament myself, if I have too."

Farkas shifted, and Cry looked sharply over at him. "Farkas?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

He reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "I may have already performed a Black Sacrament, and Hainin may have already left for Riften to carry out the assassination," he said.

Brynjolf raised his head, and Cry closed her eyes, letting out a breath. "Why would you do that without discussing it with me, first?" she asked, softly.

"Because she wants you dead, which means we want her dead!" Farkas exclaimed. "We had assassins available to us; this is the cleanest way of getting it done. It's a contract killing, Hainin will carry it out, and that will be the end of it." He looked around at Vilkas and Aela, too. "We'll be able to go home!"

There was silence in the dining hall for a moment. Aela then shrugged. "It does seem to be the best way of getting this over with," she said. "Once she's dead, the contract is fulfilled, and then it's done, and you won't have been involved."

Cry looked around at everyone, hoping that she would see at least a hint of uncertainty on one of their faces. Iona and Rayya were silent; Vilkas had his arms crossed and looked pleased with his twin; Farkas was studying his boots; and Brynjolf had returned his head to the table. It seemed she was the minority.

She sighed to herself. "I hate this," she declared, and then she walked out of the dining hall. Iona hurried after her, and Rayya followed them after a moment.

Farkas was distressed. "She's angry with me," he said, looking at Vilkas, who nodded.

"She'll get over it, once everything's ended," he assured. He crossed the room to where Farkas stood, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Farkas. I appreciate what you did, even if Cry does not." He then turned to Aela. "Do you think we should send someone after Hainin, and make sure it actually gets done?"

"I feel as though we can trust an assassin to carry out an assassination, but if you want me to go, I will," Aela responded, straightening up from the wall.

"I'd appreciate it," Vilkas said, "just so you can report back if something were to go wrong."

Aela nodded, and headed for the stairs that would take her to the Black Door.

Once she was gone,Vilkas looked at Farkas. His twin gathered the message from Vilkas's expression, and exited the dining hall.

Alone with Brynjolf, the Companion crossed over to the table and sat down across from the thief. A moment of silence passed between the two of them, even though Vilkas knew that Brynjolf sensed him sitting across from him.

"I'm sorry," the Companion began. "I know this can't be easy for you, and I apologize that this will… well, cause a lot of chaos for you and your organization."

In response, Brynjolf released a muffled chuckle. "We're used to chaos by now," he said, "after everything we've gone through pertaining to our Guild Masters these last thirty or so years." He lifted his head and smiled at Vilkas, tiredly. "You're lucky," he said.

"In what way?" Vilkas asked him.

"Cry's perfect," Brynjolf responded, still smiling. "You got the good one. I ended up with the crazy one, because I let Cry leave the inn that morning. If I hadn't… things would've been a lot different, for the both of us."

"And you regret it, don't you? Letting her leave?"

Brynjolf was silent for a long moment, during which Vilkas waited, barely breathing, to see what the thief would say.

"No."

Vilkas was startled. "No?"

Brynjolf shook his head. "No, I don't regret it. I see how you two are, how in love you two are, and I'm glad for you." He smiled again. "I don't think love is something I'd ever understand, which means it's something I'd never have been able to give to Cry, and she deserves nothing but love." He closed his eyes. "Ziris… she doesn't understand love, either, and so she doesn't realize what she would've have done, had Cry actually been killed. She needs to be taken care of, before she can threaten what the two of you have again."

"And you mean that?" Vilkas asked.

Brynjolf nodded. "I… I wouldn't, if I'd ever actually been in love with Ziris, but…" He opened his eyes and examined the top of the table. "I think I've only ever been in love once, and… and then I realized what a bad idea it was."

Vilkas gazed at him for a moment longer, and then he leaned back in his chair. "If you're sure," he said, and Brynjolf nodded again without looking up. "All right. I'd… I'd say thank you, but I don't really know if that's the right thing to say."

Brynjolf smiled slightly in response, just a barely there raise of the corner of his mouth. "Then you don't need to say anything. I'd rather not be thanked for agreeing to let you kill my Guild Master, especially since it means I will be acting Guild Master until we choose another one."

"You don't want to be -?"

The thief shook his head. "Not now, not ever." He exhaled and finally lifted his gaze. "It wouldn't suit me, I don't think. And the position seems to be cursed."

It was Vilkas's turn to smile. "That's fair." He pushed himself out of the chair and started down the hall in the direction that Cry had gone.

Brynjolf remained where he was, just gazing down at the table. He didn't particularly feel anything at that present moment, and he wasn't sure of what he should be feeling. He didn't know if he should feel sad, or relieved, or… maybe he was doing all right, and he wasn't _supposed_ to be feeling anything.

"Brynjolf? Are you all right?" He glanced up at Nazir's voice, and found the Redguard had entered the dining hall, and was examining him with a raised eyebrow.

Brynjolf raised his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't have any feelings. My head hurts, but that's about it."

"Well…" Nazir let out a breath and settled down in the chair that Vilkas had vacated. "I'm not really someone you should talk to about feelings, but… I'd say that you shouldn't be feeling _nothing_."

"Damn," Brynjolf sighed, "and just when I was about to convince myself that not feeling anything was perfectly fine." He focused on Nazir. "I'm surprised you didn't go with Hainin to Riften."

"He does this type of thing better if he's on his own," Nazir explained, "and leaving me here gives him incentive to come back sooner."

Brynjolf nodded in agreement. "I guess that makes sense." He glanced around the dining hall momentarily. "So… you think he'll be able to do it no problem?"

"Yes," Nazir replied after a moment. He then tilted his head. "Are you sure this is something you want to talk about?"

"It's happening; there's no sense not talking about it, pretending it isn't going to," Brynjolf said.

"I admire that," Nazir said, and Brynjolf shook his head.

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

Brynjolf pushed himself into a standing position, and offered Nazir a tired smile. "Because it means you have no feelings, and no one wants to be that way."

He turned and walked out of the dining hall, passing by Cry and Vilkas's bedchamber as he went. He paused outside the partially open door, ignoring the look that Iona gave him.

"I never thought that it would go this far!" he heard Cry exclaim.

"I know, love, but this is the only way we can guarantee your safety," Vilkas responded.

Cry shook her head and paced the length of the room for the fourth time. "Vilkas," she started after a moment, and she turned to look at him. "Ziris isn't the only one involved."

"What do you mean?" Vilkas asked her. "Are you just saying that because you still want to somehow make a deal with her?"

"No, I'm saying it because it's true." Cry reached up and covered her face with her hands for a long second. "Vilkas… someone within the Companions wants me dead."

Vilkas didn't respond, and Cry lowered her hands in order to look at him. She found him frowning at her, concerned.

"Who told you this?" he asked.

Cry lowered her gaze. "Nazir did, after he… after he tried to kill me, before the King's Moot."

"He _what_?" Vilkas exploded, and Cry held up her hands.

"Bigger picture, _please_ ," she begged. Vilkas glared, but he didn't speak, so Cry went on: "He didn't kill me, obviously, and it was because he didn't want to. And I think he's made up for it, don't you? By letting us stay here? By taking care of us?"

"So you're saying someone hired him to kill you, and that they are in the Companions," Vilkas concluded, and Cry nodded. "Who is it?"

"I don't know, and that's why I didn't tell you before," Cry told him. She crossed the room to where he stood. "Listen to me; we cannot go back to Jorrvaskr until we find out who it is, and Ziris is the only one that can tell us, I'm sure of it."

"Why can't Nazir tell us, since he seems to be so close with them?" Vilkas spat, and Cry frowned at him.

"Don't," she said. "They threatened him, and Hainin, and the rest of the Brotherhood. He was risking a lot just by telling me that it's someone in the Companions." Vilkas didn't seem appeased, and Cry rested her hands on his chest. "I need you to work with me, Vilkas. I won't be safe, until we figure out who this other person is."

"Well, I'm not going to travel all the way to Riften in order to _try_ to convince Ziris to tell me who she was working with to plot your death," Vilkas informed her. He walked around her to the other side of the room, exhaling heavily. "I can send a letter after Aela, tell her what you told me, but that's all."

Cry let out a breath. "Fine," she said, softly. "Then I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise." She moved around him towards the door of the bedroom. Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I appreciate you wanting nothing more than to keep me safe, but… this isn't the best way to do it, and you'll realize that, one day."

"I think you'll realize that this was the only way of doing it," Vilkas said, "and you'll thank me, and Farkas, for it, eventually."

Cry shook her head in response. "No. No matter how much time passes, no matter the effects that come from it, I'll never condone killing someone in this manner, especially without giving them the chance to explain themselves." She turned to the door again, and opened it. "I'm going for a walk, on my own."

With that, she stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her, and ran right into Brynjolf.

"Sorry," he said, taking a step backwards. "I -"

"It's fine, Bryn," Cry said, quietly. "You don't have to explain it to me." She walked away from him, towards the dining hall, holding her hand up when Iona moved after her. "I'll be fine."

Iona, clearly torn between her original orders, and the instructions that her thane had just given her, swayed on her feet for a moment, and then turned and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

Brynjolf gazed after Cry for a moment, and then he followed her. Cry hesitated at the foot of the stairs, knowing that Brynjolf was behind her.

"I won't come, if you don't want me to," he said, slowly, "but I don't think you should go by yourself."

Cry stood still for a moment longer, and then she bowed her head. "Come on, then," she said, softly. "I guess I'd rather talk to you than anyone else, currently."

She started up the stairs, and Brynjolf followed her.

* * *

 **Reference to _Friends_ in here, but it's pretty vague, and it's a quote, and you'll probably only be able to find it if you have extensive knowledge about the show and can quote every episode. **

**Otherwise, let me know your thoughts about this chapter, and the one prior. I'm excited to see what y'all are thinking as we near the end of this second installment of _A Story's Conclusion_. **

**Love you.**


	22. The Reaction - Resolve

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: I hope Vilkas and Cry get the peace they deserve, too. I mean, with Cry saving the whole world, and Vilkas just being brave enough to love her and stuff despite that craziness... I think some peace is well earned.**

 **Nina: I thought people would see what Farkas and Hainin's reasons are. Brynjolf's basically a teenager, and Ziris probably learned a little too much from her mentor. We'll have to see where this'll lead.**

 **Guest: Oh, yeah. Ziris, indeed.**

* * *

 **The Reaction: Resolve**

* * *

"I like snow," Cry said as they walked along a path in the white powder, and little ways away from the Sanctuary, but not quite inside of Dawnstar's city limits. "I don't get cold easily, even less so than other Nords, which means I can be out in it for long periods of time."

"Might be that dragon blood," Brynjolf said.

"It could be," Cry said, quietly. "Vilkas gets annoyed by it, sometimes, especially during summer when it's hot outside. He says I'm warm all the time."

They walked along in silence for a few minutes, and then Cry let out a breath and stopped. Brynjolf stopped as well, and glanced back at her. "What is it?"

"If I asked you to kiss me, would you?"

Brynjolf frowned at the question. "Are you… are you being serious?" he asked, and Cry nodded, moving towards him.

"I know that… that you still have feelings for me," she said, "or, at least, you did. If… if you still do, I want to let you kiss me, so that you can… I don't know, get some closure."

Brynjolf forced himself to put his hands up, to keep her at arm's length. "Cry, no," he said, quietly. "You don't… stop it. You don't actually want to do this, and we both know it."

Cry bowed her head. "I know," she whispered, "but I just…" She let out a soft sob, and Brynjolf exhaled, pulling her into a hug.

"It's all right," he promised her. "It's all right."

"No, it's not," Cry said through her tears. "Everything is going wrong, Bryn, and I feel like there's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm hurting so many people, and I don't even know what I'm doing!"

"You're doing nothing," Brynjolf told her, rubbing his hand gently up and down her back. "I promise. Things are just going wrong... because that's what happens in life." He pushed her away slightly, and put a finger beneath her chin, in order to lift her eyes to his. He managed a smile for her. "Everything is going to get better."

"How can you be sure?" Cry asked him, and Brynjolf shrugged.

"I just am," he said. "I know it doesn't seem like it, with how awful everything's been going, but… it can't stay like this forever, and especially not for someone like you."

"Bryn," Cry began after gazing up at him for a moment.

"Hmm?"

"Do you still have feelings for me?"

Brynjolf stared at her. After some time, he nodded. "Yes," he said, quietly. "I do, but… they're not the same feelings that Vilkas has for you."

Cry smiled sadly at him. "What about Ziris?" she asked, softly, and Brynjolf shook his head.

"She's… she changed, after we killed Mercer Frey, and, clearly, not for the better," he said, "and… I honestly don't think I ever loved her the way Vilkas loves you. And I doubt she would've ever been able to love me back, even if I had."

"So… you're not heartbroken?"

"I should be, but not for the reason you'd think," Brynjolf answered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that… I should be heartbroken because Ziris is the best damn thief the Guild has seen in a long time. She's the best damn Guild Master we've had in almost thirty years. I should be heartbroken because she's done something that's ruined those two things." He shook his head. "I'm not, though, and… that's wrong."

Cry glanced downwards, and then she pulled away from him completely. "Yes," she said, quietly, "it is wrong, but… she did try to kill you."

Brynjolf sighed unhappily. "Aye, she did," he agreed, "and she almost succeeded." He blinked. "I suppose that's why I'm not upset about this whole thing. I've always been able to hold a grudge."

Thankfully, Cry laughed at that. "Thank you, Brynjolf," she said. "For whatever reason, I always feel better after talking to you."

"That's my Nordic charm," he replied, grinning.

"We should go back," Cry said after a moment.

"Good idea," Brynjolf agreed, and then he gestured in the direction of the Sanctuary. "After you."

Cry headed that way, and Brynjolf glanced up at the sky momentarily before exhaling and following her.

Inside the Sanctuary, Cry went down the stairs and disappeared into her bedchamber. Inside, she found Vilkas seated on the edge of the bed, studying his boots. He glanced up as the door closed behind her, however, and Cry leaned back against it.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm… I don't want to fight with you."

"We were fighting?" Vilkas asked, scoffing. "I never would've guessed."

"Don't, please," Cry started, closing her eyes. "I'm trying to fix this, because I want us both to get enough sleep tonight." She opened her eyes again and looked at him. "I still don't think killing Ziris is the best way to do this, but I really don't want to argue with you anymore, so…"

"Cry," Vilkas said, cutting her off. "I know, and I'm sorry, too. I don't want to discuss it anymore, because it just makes it worse when we think about it. We need to focus our attention elsewhere, so that we don't have to talk about it until it's over."

She nodded in agreement, and the glanced at the ground. They were quiet for quite some time.

"You weren't out walking for very long," Vilkas said finally, to change the subject..

"Oh, no, I guess I wasn't," Cry replied, joining him on the bed. She shrugged. "I just needed to think, and Brynjolf walked with me, so it was easier to think by talking to him." She saw Vilkas's expression, and sighed. "Don't look at me like that."

"Sorry," Vilkas said, but he didn't sound it. "What did he say?"

Cry told him about her conversation with Brynjolf, about what she'd said about feeling like she was hurting everyone, and she didn't know why, and how Brynjolf had assured her that things would get better. Vilkas listened to this silently, and when Cry was done, she glanced at him.

"What?" she asked when he didn't speak.

"I wish you could talk to me about things like that," he said, softly. "I feel as though you should be able to, but… you can't, and I'm not entirely sure why."

Cry hesitated a moment before replying. "It… I think it's because you're one of the people I'm hurting."

"What?" Vilkas sounded dumbfounded. "Cry, how could you think that? You're not hurting me at all."

"Yes I am," Cry said, quietly. "We can't go home because of me. Our baby died before breathing any air because of me."

"Neither of those things are your fault," Vilkas told her.

"Yes they are," Cry said, and she buried her face in her hands. "Both are true because someone wants me dead, for something I did, and I don't know what it was, but clearly it was something, or else they wouldn't want me dead. You can't argue with that."

"It could be that whoever wants you dead, aside from Ziris, wants you dead simply because of who you are," Vilkas suggested.

"Someone within the Companions wants me dead because I'm the Dragonborn?" Cry asked, offering him a look.

"Because you're the Harbinger?" Cry was silent, and Vilkas reached over to place his arm around her shoulders. "Cry, I promise you that nothing could ever make me feel as though you're hurting me."

"Well -"

"All right, so there are some things, but this isn't one of them," Vilkas amended. He pressed a kiss against the side of her forehead. "Please don't blame yourself for this. You didn't do anything on purpose to Ziris, or anyone else who wants you dead. They're jealous of you, of who you are and what you have, and that's all."

Cry chanced a grin. "Does that mean they're jealous that I have you?" she queried, cheekily, and Vilkas grinned back.

"I'm the one thing you have that _everyone_ should be jealous of," he agreed, and then he slid away from her again. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to get hungry, so I'm going to go ask Nazir if he'd like me to cook tonight."

"Uh, no," Cry said at once, standing before he could. "You should never be allowed to cook at all, and I'm going to go warn Nazir of that right now."

She darted from the bedchamber, Vilkas hurrying after her, exclaiming that he'd started a fire _one time_.

Meanwhile, Farkas, who'd retired to the housecarls' living quarters for the time being, was laying back on his cot, gazing up at the stone ceiling far overhead. He heard the commotion from Vilkas and Cry, and he smiled to himself. Things were going to go back to normal, now, because of him. That made him feel good.

"Farkas?" He lifted his head at the inquiry from Calder, and found that the redheaded Nord had taken a seat on the edge of the cot next to Farkas's.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'm worried about Jordis," Calder explained, wringing his hands. "I know I shouldn't be, because Jarl Elisif wouldn't _hurt_ her, or anything like that, but I feel like she might be sequestered in our Thane's home in Solitude, and that can't be any better." He set his shoulders. "I'd like permission to travel to Solitude, to make sure she's all right."

Farkas exhaled a breath and pushed himself into a sitting position. "Calder, you know that isn't a good idea," he began. "What if you get arrested, or worse? Clearly, relations are rough between Jarl Elisif and Cry. It would be best if Cry went to Solitude herself, to see about Jordis."

"But she can't, because of the assassins!" Calder said. "That's why I want to go, so we can see about it sooner rather than later. Even if Jordis is ejected from the city, and our Thane is no longer apart of Solitude's court, that'd be better than Jordis being trapped in the city because of politics!"

The last word was spat out, and Farkas frowned at the young Nord, who'd realized too late that his voice had risen about four octaves since the beginning of the conversation. He inhaled sharply, and then let out the breath.

"Sorry," he said, his voice quieter than it had been, "but I'm worried."

Farkas knew that Calder and Jordis were close; Cry had taken them both with her on an excursion to Winterhold to teach the townspeople there how to fight dragons. The two had bonded during the trip, and now Farkas could see that the relationship meant a lot more to Calder than Farkas had thought.

Still, that didn't mean he was going to suggested to Cry that Calder travel to Solitude on his own. That was ridiculous, and it would only end poorly.

So, he shook his head. "If you go, you're taking someone else with you," he said. "And you'll have to find them, because I have other things to worry about. Once you have a traveling companion, come talk to me again, and _then_ we'll see what Cry has to say."

Calder's expression lightened, slightly. "You mean it?" Farkas nodded, and Calder jumped to his feet. "All right!"

He raced off, no doubt to find one of the other housecarls, and Farkas rolled his eyes to himself, but laid back down on his cot once Calder was out of sight. He'd never been in love, but it must be something.

In the dining hall, Nazir turned his head back and forth between Vilkas and Cry as they told him two different versions of the same story, involving a fire, Vilkas, and, according to Cry, "almost complete destruction of Jorrvaskr", while Vilkas said that he'd barely burned "the edge of the rug in the mead hall".

Already, he was wishing for his own life companion, and hoped that Hainin had found a carriage to Riften, so that he'd get there sooner, and, hopefully, return sooner. Knowing the Listener, however, he'd most likely elected to ride Shadowmere, which meant it would take him almost two days to get there, and then two days to get back, if he rode as quickly as he could convince the horse to go.

He rested his elbow on the table in the dining hall, and held up his other hand. "Settle down," he said, and Vilkas and Cry both fell silent. "What I've gathered from this is that I shouldn't let Vilkas cook dinner, ever, because he might set fire to something."

"That's about it," Cry agreed, sounding pleased.

"Fair enough," Nazir said, standing up. "I'll make supper, then, and you two can make yourselves useful by sitting down and arguing with one another."

Vilkas and Cry exchanged a confused look as Nazir walked around them towards the cooking pot. "Why does that help?" Vilkas finally asked, sitting down at the table nonetheless.

"Usually, I argue with Hainin while I'm cooking," Nazir explained, digging through the basket next to the cooking pot for some ingredients. "Since he's not here, I can't argue with him, and so I need someone else to argue with one another in our place."

"I don't think that would have the same effect as the two of you arguing with one another," Cry said, and Vilkas looked at her.

"Why not?"

"Because Nazir isn't participating in the arguing," Cry explained. "That seems to be an important aspect." She slapped the table. "I know! One of us can pretend to be Hainin, and then Nazir can argue with us."

"That's all you, then," Vilkas said, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know Hainin well enough to pretend to be him."

"My time has come," Cry said with a wide grin. She closed her eyes for a moment, and let out a breath, as though to settle into her new role as Hainin Marshal. After a moment, she opened her eyes again, and winked at Vilkas before walking over to where Nazir stood at the cooking pot.

"Vegetables? Again? We just had that!" she said, in a very believable attempt at Hainin's Imperial accent.

Nazir struggled to hold back a smile, but failed. "Well, if you don't want it, go out and kill something," he said, dumping a few carrots into the boiling pot of water. "Oh, wait, I almost forgot. You have no problem killing humans, but when it comes to the "cute bunnies", your heart just can't take it."

"They _are_ cute!" Cry retorted, sounding remarkably like Hainin. "Don't try to tell me you don't have qualms with killing rabbits, either, Red. I've been in the woods with you on trips before; you're just as bad as I am."

"At least I'll do it," Nazir retorted, frowning over at her. "You refuse to even try."

"Because I'm not heartless," Cry said, crossing her arms in a very Hainin-like way. "Despite what you may think."

Vilkas was having a hard time keeping from laughing out loud. In order to avoid it, and avoid disrupting their "fight", he buried his head in his arms and stifled his chuckles that way.

Brynjolf came into the room just as Cry was tugging on Nazir's ponytail in the same way Hainin often did, now that Nazir didn't wear his hood as much as he used to, and he lifted an eyebrow.

"What is going on?" he asked, looking around at all three of them.

"Hainin's gone, so I'm pretending to be him in order to make Nazir happy," Cry explained in her normal voice, and then, in her Hainin impression, "And I think I'm doing a pretty good job, don't you, Red?"

"Gods, that _is_ good," Brynjolf said, sounding stunned. "You need to get away from him for a while." He settled down in a chair as well, and watched Nazir and Cry bicker back and forth, smiling slightly.

Vilkas had lifted his head at his entrance to the dining hall, and was watching him instead. Brynjolf glanced at him. "What is it?"

"How're you feeling?" Vilkas returned, and Brynjolf exhaled.

"Not bad," he said. "I think it's starting to sink in, though, so we'll see how long this lasts." He nodded towards Cry, who'd just thrown a leek into Nazir's face. "Did she…?"

Vilkas nodded. "Thank you, for speaking with her," he said. "I know she doesn't like talking to me, for whatever reason, so it helps that she has someone else to speak to, and since Hainin isn't here…"

Brynjolf put up his hands. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I know that this has been hard on the both of you… she probably was just wanting to get some things off her chest that she didn't want to bother you with, because she thinks she's already bothered you too much."

Vilkas smiled fondly as he turned his attention back to Cry, who was now leaning her head on Nazir's shoulder and watching as the Redguard stirred their supper. "She needs to realize that she's supposed to bother me," he said, quietly. "My job, as her husband, is to be bothered."

"Maybe you could tell her that," Brynjolf suggested, and Vilkas shrugged.

"I doubt it would do any good. She hates putting too much on the same person." He rested his chin in his hand. "That's why it's good that she knows so many people, and has so many friends that she can go to. If she didn't, she would refuse to talk to me about what she's feeling at all, and she'd explode from keeping it all in."

Brynjolf smiled to himself as Cry left Nazir's side in order to retrieve the pile of freshly washed bowls that would need to be washed again, as soon as everyone was done using them. "Well, I'm glad that I'm one of those people, then," he said to Vilkas. "We wouldn't want her to explode, after going through all this trouble to make sure she isn't killed another way."

Vilkas cracked a grin in response. "Exactly."

Brynjolf was glad that the air between them had been cleared. He didn't know what exactly had happened to do it, but apparently it had worked. Vilkas seemed more comfortable talking to him, now, and Brynjolf was certainly more comfortable talking to him. Whatever it was that had changed their opinions of one another, Brynjolf was grateful for it.

"Ouch!" Cry exclaimed, no longer speaking in her Hainin voice. "Why'd you do that?"

"I didn't mean to," Nazir responded, although he didn't sound sorry. "You should've been ready."

"What happened?" Vilkas asked, rising from his chair.

"He got stew on me!" Cry exclaimed, turning to face him. Vilkas frowned, examining her.

"Where?"

"Right here!" She pointed to a small wet spot on the front of her tunic, and Vilkas's face broke out into a grin.

"Exaggerating," he said.

"Am not. It hurt," Cry mumbled, looking down at the spot.

Vilkas shook his head and took the bowls from her. "Go sit down," he said.

Cry did, muttering under her breath as she went. As she settled down into a chair, a few of the housecarls shuffled into the dining hall, talking amongst themselves. They all bowed to Cry as they passed, however, and Brynjolf lifted an eyebrow.

"So much respect," he said, and Cry frowned at him.

"I don't ask for it."

"I know," Brynjolf answered, "that's why it's interesting to watch."

Calder was the last one to come in, panting slightly, with Farkas right behind him. The two of them immediately made a beeline for Cry, who raised an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" she queried.

"Calder has a question to ask you," Farkas explained, gesturing to the redhead.

Cry turned her gaze to him, and the young Nord exhaled a breath. "I want to go to Solitude. For Jordis."

Cry's other eyebrow rose as well. "Do you? That's something I hadn't thought of." She tilted her head. "And what do you plan on doing there, exactly?"

"Getting Jordis out," Calder explained. "Farkas said I can't go alone, and Iona said she'd come with me if you don't need us here."

Cry glanced at Farkas, who had his arms crossed. "And what do you think about this?"

"I told him he could go if he found someone to go with him," Farkas answered with a shrug. "I know that you'd rather go to Solitude yourself, but I don't think Calder is willing to wait that long."

"I'm not," Calder said at once, and Cry exhaled a breath.

"Very well," she said. "You're allowed to go, but please wait until tomorrow morning. I don't want you traveling at night."

Calder's eyes were bright, and he was grinning. He quickly bowed to her. "Of course, my Thane, thank you."

He darted away, towards Iona, and Farkas shook his head, settling down into a chair to Cry's left. Cry smiled, and reached over to rub his shoulder.

"It's a lot, having command, isn't it?" she asked.

"I didn't ask for it, either, so it's even more," Farkas mumbled into his arms, which he'd rested his head on top of. He seemed to realize she was speaking to him, then, and he turned his head enough so that he could side-eye her. "Are you still upset?"

"A little," Cry said, "but it's happening, so there's no reason be angry with anyone." She tilted her head. "I know you only did it because you thought it was best for me, and I appreciate that, Farkas, but in the future, I'd like to have discussions about such substantial things before anyone makes a hasty decision."

Farkas nodded, and turned his head back into his arms. "Of course. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Cry replied, giving his shoulder one final rub before she looked towards Vilkas, who was carrying over two bowls of stew. He set them down in front of her and his brother, placed a kiss on the top of her head, and returned to Nazir.

Cry looked at Brynjolf, who also had his head on his arms, and nudged him with her toe beneath the table. He kicked back, and Cry grinned to herself.

Her housecarls were settled down at the table, all with bowls of stew, and were chatting amongst themselves. Cry watched as Rayya stole a piece off of the loaf of bread that Gregor and Vald were sharing between the two of them. Iona was watching Calder balance his spoon off the end of his nose, and she let out a laugh when it fell into his bowl, splashing stew up at him. Argis must have been off on patrol. Cry hoped he returned soon, so that he could eat as well.

She looked down at her own meal and felt hunger gnaw at her. She _was_ hungry, she realized, and so she reached for a spoon of her own and began to eat.

Farkas sat up, and looked around. He frowned to himself.

"What is it?" Cry asked, seeing his expression.

"I feel like it's really quiet," he answered.

"That's because Hainin is usually telling some sort of anecdote by now," Nazir explained, coming over to the table with Vilkas behind him, both holding bowls. Vilkas set one of the two he had in his hands in front of Brynjolf, who didn't react.

Vilkas settled down to Cry's right. "He does always provide some kind of entertainment during dinner, doesn't he?"

"I miss him," Nazir said softly, stirring his stew, and Cry exchanged a glance with Vilkas.

"He'll be back soon," she said to Nazir, who nodded in acceptance.

"I know."

Dinner went on, and afterwards, everyone settled in for an hour or so of listening to Cry sing. She hadn't sung in quite some time, so she felt a little embarrassed, but no one seemed to think she was doing poorly, so she went on as she was.

Farkas suggested _The Tale of Tongues_ , which she scowled at, but sang anyhow.

As a joke, no doubt, Nazir told her to sing _Ragnar the Red_ , and Cry was half tempted to throw her shoe at him.

Brynjolf had sat up during one of the songs she'd composed, from a poem she'd found in a book at the Bards College, and he tilted his head thoughtfully as she finished and her audience clapped.

She eyed him. "Anything you want to hear, Bryn?"

"You wrote that last song?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"Sort of. The words weren't mine; I took a poem and set them to a tune." She looked around at everyone. "I'm not one to rhyme."

Vald raised a hand, and she nodded to him. "I want you to sing _The Dragonborn Comes_ ," he said.

Cry sighed. "Are you sure? That one is overdone by every bard in every inn everywhere."

"I'm sure," Vald said, nodding to himself. "You sing it good, and I'd like to hear it, please, my Thane."

"All right, all right," Cry said as other housecarls raised their voices in agreement. She took a quick drink of water and then licked her lips. "Here goes."

" _Our hero, our hero  
Claims a warrior's heart  
I tell you, I tell you,  
The Dragonborn comes_

" _With a voice wielding power  
Of the ancient Nord art  
Believe, believe,  
The Dragonborn comes_

" _It's an end to the evil  
Of all Skyrim's foes  
Beware, beware,  
The Dragonborn comes_

" _For the darkness has passed,  
And the legend yet grows  
You'll know, you'll know  
The Dragonborn's come._"

Cry rolled her eyes when there were whoops and cheers from her audience, and she waved her hand at them.

"All right, I'm done," she said. "It's time for bed."

Argis had arrived right after everyone else was finishing their dinner, and walked over to her as the other housecarls began to disperse.

"My Thane," he began. "I saw the Listener ride away on his horse while I was on patrol."

Cry nodded. "He went to Riften, to take care of one of the conspirators of my death."

"Ah." Argis looked relieved. "Then it's all right. Good singing tonight, my Thane. It makes everyone happy to hear it."

Cry smiled at him. "Thank you Argis. Get some rest, all right?"

He nodded, and walked off. Cry turned to Vilkas, who grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"I believe we had plans," he said, and Cry nodded in agreement.

"I think we did."

"Don't be disgusting," Farkas scolded before he disappeared into the hall, and Cry and Vilkas laughed together for a moment. The perfect harmony echoed through the entire Sanctuary, and all those who heard it immediately smiled.

Vilkas held out his hand to her.

"Bed, my love?" he queried, and Cry nodded again, taking his hand in hers.

"Let's go."

* * *

 **Headcanon that Vilkas absolutely _sucks_ at cooking.**

 **Vilkas and Brynjolf would be the best BrOTP.**

 **Also, I've been trying to come up with tags for the actual OTPs in this universe, and this is what I've got so far:**

 **Vilkas and Cry: _Because of you_.**

 **Nazir and Hainin: _Did you say we?_**

 **Ulfric and Faisley: _The_ _King and Queen._**

 **I don't know how I feel about Nazir and Hainin's. I'm open to suggestions.**


	23. The Reaction - A Thief's Journey

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyim, or any of the characters that come from the original title. I merely own the characters that do not belong to the original title, but that I have created in order to play a part in the original title.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Thank you for the kind words, and nicely written, too. You're going to find out what happens in Riften in this very chapter. Hopefully it lives up to everyone's expectations, whether it's what they want to happen or not.**

 **P: Hello again, friend! The confrontation between Hainin and Ziris is what rounds out this final addition to Part 2. Hopefully, you enjoy it. Or, if you don't enjoy it, it's because it was really good, but just not what you wanted.**

* * *

 **And this is the last chapter of the second part to _A Story's Conclusion._**

 **Let's see how this plays out.**

* * *

 **The Reaction: A Thief's Journey**

* * *

Ziris frowned at Mercer in response to his suggestion. "You know I won't be able to pull that off," she said.

"Why not?" Mercer inquired, leaning back against the Guild Master's desk, arms crossed. "All you need to do is phrase it correctly."

"That's the problem," Ziris said. "In order to do that, I'd have to be able to think quickly enough as soon as I see who I'm facing. I can't do that."

"Of course you can," Mercer told her. "If your life depends on it, you can do anything."

"You sound so sure," Ziris said, reaching up to rub at her eyebrow as a headache began to form.

"It's because I am." Mercer gestured around the cistern. "Do you see all this? Do you want to lose it all?"

Ziris looked around, at the desk, the training dummies, the large vault. "No," she said.

"Then don't," Mercer concluded. "Fight for it." Ziris shook her head, and he let out a breath. "Do you have any idea who might be coming for you?"

"It could be any of them, or all of them." She closed her eyes. "They may have even sent one of the assassins, as a sort of… honorable way of getting it done." She shook her head again. "Mercer, I won't be able to talk my way out of it. I'll have to fight."

She reached for her weapons, and pulled both out, dagger in one hand and sword in the other. "I need to train with you."

"You know that isn't how things work here," Mercer scolded lightly. He gestured towards his own belt, which was scabbard free. "No weapons."

"Why not?" Ziris demanded, lowering her own. "This is your creation, isn't it? Can't you give yourself weapons?"

Mercer shook his head. "Trust me, I've tried," he said, and then he waved his hand. "That's why I'm trying to give you alternatives."

"You're alternatives are the worst, because they won't work," Ziris grumbled, sliding her weapons away nonetheless. "All right, what do I say if Cry herself shows up?"

Mercer held out his hands. "Give her anything she wants. Tell her the other names. Tell her that you'll never bother her again. Tell her you'll lock yourself in the Ratway. She's soft-hearted, and she'll forgive you with no qualms about it whatsoever."

Ziris frowned at him. "You actually believe that?"

"Why don't you? You know her better than I do; I never even met the bitch, and I know that she'd avoid killing you in anyway she possibly can." Mercer rolled his eyes. "Which is partially why everyone is so angry with you; you attempt to kill the Dragonborn, who only kills when she has to."

Ziris scowled. "I told you I regret it," she growled. "Must you keep pointing out that I made a mistake?"

"Yes, I must," Mercer retorted angrily, "because you did, and you very possibly ruined the Guild because of it." He shook his head. "All because of jealousy."

" _Jealousy_?" Ziris spat out the word as though it were poison. "You think I want her dead because I'm _jealous_ of her? There's nothing to be jealous of! She's overly-praised, she's dragged into _everything_ political…" She shook her head and repeated: "There is _nothing_ to be jealous of."

Mercer frowned at her. "If you actually believed that, none of this would've happened. You didn't decide you wanted her dead for no reason, and until you gave give me a different one, I'm going to assume that it is because you are jealous of her, for whatever reason it may be."

Ziris paced away from him, fists clenched by her sides. "I am not," she said at last, " _jealous_ of Cry Silverworthy, or Crayla Honeyrunner, or whatever her sodding name is. She has nothing that I want. I want her dead because I am _tired_ of all the fanfare surrounding her." She whipped around and glared at her mentor. "That is _all_."

Mercer didn't believe her, clearly, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he rolled his eyes and turned away from her, pacing off to the side of the desk, silent. After several moments, however, he glanced at her.

"Who do you believe to be the most likely to come after you?" he asked her.

Ziris thought this over. She didn't put it past Cry coming herself, and she definitely didn't have a hard time believing that any of her housecarls, including Farkas, would come. She knew that Vilkas wouldn't not on his own. She didn't think they'd come as a large group, either.

However, she also didn't think that Cry wanted her dead. In fact, she _knew_ that Cry didn't want her dead, which meant that those previous options were likely impossible.

Which left the Dark Brotherhood.

She looked at Mercer. "It'll be one of the assassins," she said. "I'm sure of it."

"Well, good," Mercer stated, crossing his arms, "but which one?"

"It'll be Hainin or Nazir," Ziris replied without needed to think about it. "Obviously."

"What about both of them?" Mercer queried.

"I… doubt it," Ziris responded, slowly.

"All right, then," Mercer said, fixing her with a look. "We need to decide which one it is."

"I know," Ziris said after a moment's thought, and Mercer raised his eyebrow. She smiled, thinly. "It's the one who's in love."

* * *

Ziris strolled around the edge of the cistern, looking around at her thieves. Some of them were sitting at the table in the kitchen, eating the stew that someone had cooked an hour before. Niruin, as usual, was standing before the dummies, shooting arrows at them. Each one seemed to hit the same mark repeatedly, and each one hit the arrow before it with so much accuracy and force that it split it in half. That was a new trick he'd only recently perfected.

"Boss!" She turned her head at the sound of Rune's voice, and saw him waving her over to where he and Sapphire were seated on the edge of his bed. She made her way over to them, and saw that Rune looked worried. "Isn't Brynjolf coming back soon? He told me that he had a job for me, one he'd explain once he was home."

Ziris shrugged her shoulders. "I honestly don't know where Brynjolf is." It was the truth, for the most part. "If I did, I'd let you know, I promise."

Rune looked crestfallen. "I guess I'll just have to keep waiting," he sighed, and Sapphire patted him on the shoulder before looking up at Ziris.

"I was surprised that the two of you didn't return from Windhelm together," she said, and Ziris shrugged again.

"Brynjolf's free to do as he pleases. I don't own him." She smiled at the two young thieves. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

She left them with that, comforting words that made her want to vomit. It was disgusting, how much these thieves cared for one another, all of them silently suffering from it in one way or another. Rune was clearly distressed by his mentor's absence, Sapphire was distressed by Rune's distress…

Ziris held back a shudder.

She ran into Delvin as he crossed the cistern in the direction of the shelves behind the Guild Master's desk, looking mighty pleased with himself. She tilted her head at the covered object he was carrying in his hands.

"What's that?"

Delvin proudly pulled the cover off of it, revealing a very familiar gray stone bust beneath it.

"The bust of Grey Fox," he said happily. "I finally convinced Vex to go into Riftweald and steal it for me. I would've asked Brynjolf to do it, but… well, he's not here."

Ziris blinked twice at Brynjolf's name. Why was he coming up in every conversation?

Aloud, she said, "Well, good for you, Del. Go ahead and put that on the edge of the desk; I think it'll look better there than on one of those shelves."

Delvin nodded in agreement. "Glad I ran into you, then, Boss," he said, and then he walked around her towards the desk.

Ziris gazed after him, watching as he set the bust down on a bare space of the desk, and gave it an affectionate pat.

She rolled her eyes to herself and moved out of the cistern. She needed a drink.

She settled down beside Vex at the bar, and asked Vekel for an ale. He passed her a bottle, and she pulled the cork out of it before taking a long drink. Vex eyed her, openly studying, and Ziris furrowed her brows as she lowered the bottle.

"What?"

"Something bothering you?" Vex questioned, and Ziris shook her head, setting the bottle down on the bar.

"I don't think so."

"You've been drinking a lot lately," Vex said, and then was silent, as though waiting for Ziris to provide an explanation to this. When Ziris didn't speak, however, the blonde thief sighed. "Are you worried about Brynjolf? Because if you are, I don't want to keep talking to you."

Ziris picked up her bottle and threw it at the wall. "Does _everything_ have to be about him?" she shouted, and then glanced around, seeing that everyone in the general vicinity had looked at her in surprise. She licked her lips, and glowered at the bar top.

"No," she said under her breath, to Vex. "I am _not_ worried about Brynjolf. I have no reason _to_ be. I wish everyone would stop asking about him, because I'm fucking _tired_ of hearing his name."

Vex stared at her for a moment longer, and then she slid off of her stool. "You need to punch something, and I don't plan on being it," she said, and then she walked away towards a table instead.

Vekel finished sweeping up the shattered glass into a pile, and looked at Ziris. "What was that about?" he asked.

"Nothing," Ziris grumbled. "Could I get another one of those?"

"Are you going to throw this one, too?" Vekel asked, reaching below the bar, and she shook her head. He set it down in front of her, and she downed it all in four swallows, just as someone tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned, and relaxed almost instantly. Thrynn stood behind her, holding a satchel of gold.

"Here," he said, and thrust it in her direction. "That's all that was in the house. Thought you might want it."

"Thrynn, you know that anything else you steal is yours to keep," Ziris told him, pushing the satchel back.

"I want to give it to the Guild," Thrynn insisted, holding it out again. "If you don't take it, I'll give it to Delvin, and he'll keep it for himself, you know he will."

Ziris smiled, and accepted the satchel. "All right," she said. "Let's take it to the vault together, then." She slid off her stool and started for the hidden opening in the cabinet. Before she could duck through it, however, Dirge called her name, and she leaned around the wall to look at him.

"Maul just told me someone new got into Riften just an hour ago or so," he said, panting slightly from his run to the bar. "Said he looked like an assassin, wearing that red and black armor, you know."

Ziris stiffened. He was already here? How did he get from Dawnstar to Riften so quickly?

Thrynn saw the expression on her face, and waved his hand in front of her eyes. "Z? What's the matter?" he asked her.

Ziris shook her head, and forced a smile. "Nothing," she said. "Come on."

She led the way into the cistern, and across it to the vault. Delvin was still nearby, which was a relief, because she needed his key. He handed it over easily enough, and she used both hers and his to get the vault open. After dumping out the gold into a mostly empty chest, she turned to face Thrynn.

"I have to go," she said to him. "I need to talk to that assassin."

"About what?" Thrynn asked, frowning.

"Just… faction business, it's not a big deal." She hesitated a moment before submitting herself to hugging him, tightly. Thrynn didn't argue, but he did seem a bit surprised when she threw her arms around his neck.

"Whoa," he said, laughing. "What's all this?" He wrapped his arms around her waist, and hugged her back.

"Just… craving affection," she whispered, hiding her face in his shoulder, and breathing him in. Thrynn, her friend. Thrynn, the one person she'd spoken to extensively who hadn't mentioned Brynjolf a single time. Thrynn, who she could've fallen in love with, had she been able to.

She pulled out of the hug and managed a grin for him. "I'll be back," she said, although she knew that she was lying. She wouldn't be back, no matter what she said, what she did. There was no chance. She'd die in one way or another before her conversation with Hainin was over.

She just planned on making sure he was dead, first.

After sending Thrynn away, she made sure the vault was locked up tight, and returned Delvin's key to him. She then went to the Guild Master's desk and pulled open the drawer on the bottom left-hand side. She reached into it, and pulled out the icy, blue potion she'd noticed in there before, but had never realized what it was, until Mercer had told her about it in one of their meetings.

Exhaling, she gripped the bottle tightly in her left hand, and turned towards the ladder of the secret entrance.

* * *

Hainin waited patiently behind a tree for Ziris to appear from the secret entrance to the Thieves Guild. He knew of its location from his one visit to the Guild, during the vampire conflict a year prior. He hadn't known then that the knowledge would eventually become useful for one of his assassinations, and yet here he was, waiting to kill the very person who'd shown him the entrance's location.

Funny how things worked out.

He'd made it to Riften in record time. Shadowmere hadn't fought with his commands a single time, as though he knew that it was urgent they reach Riften quickly. Hainin loved the horse more than he loved himself.

He heard the sound of grating stone, which announced the arrival of a thief. Not wanting to risk killing the wrong one, he leaned around the tree just far enough to catch sight of them.

"Hainin."

 _Shit_.

He slid out from behind the tree and stepped in front of Ziris, smiling.

"Good to see you," he greeted, pleasantly.

Ziris did not return the greeting. "Are you here to kill me?" she asked, rather bluntly.

"That's the plan." Hainin decided to avoid anything that would make this last longer than necessary, and so he readied an arrow. "You plan on fighting back, though, don't you?"

"Dying would be very disappointing otherwise," Ziris replied, but she made no move to reach for her own weapons. "I'd like to talk first, however."

Hainin winced. He'd know this was going to happen, and yet he hadn't bothered to prepare himself for it. He forced a smile. "I typically don't converse with my marks before I kill them, believe it or not." He nonetheless lowered his bow. "I suppose I can make an exception for you, though, considering we were friends."

"Thank you," Ziris said, and she glanced around momentarily. "You wouldn't happen to already know about the first attempt made on Cry's life, would you?" she questioned at last.

"If you mean the four attempts that I was in charge of, then yes, I do know of them, a little too well." Hainin rolled his eyes. "Thanks for reminding me."

Ziris was smiling at last. "No, Hainin, I don't mean your attempts. I'm referring to Nazir's attempt."

Hainin blinked at her. What was she talking about? "I think you mean one of mine," he said, slowly. "Nazir always gave _me_ contracts on Cry."

"Oh, Hainin." Ziris released a pitying sigh. "It makes me sad that I have to be the one to tell you. Your Redguard, not three months ago, accepted a contract made in Cry's name. He failed to carry it out, obviously, which was disappointing. We were so sure he'd be able to do it." She shook her head. "I suppose he was just too cowardly."

Hainin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared blankly at the condemned thief without speaking for several seconds. Finally, he shook his head to clear it and readied his arrow again, aiming directly at her this time.

"I'm done talking," he said. "If you're going to fight, draw your weapons."

Ziris looked sad. "I know you're upset, Hainin," she said. "I am, too. You don't need to take it out on me."

"Fight, or don't," Hainin stated stonily. "You have three seconds to make up your mind."

Ziris exhaled, but pulled out her sword and dagger. "I tried," she said, and then she leapt at him.

Hainin fired his arrow before jumping to the side and out of her way. His arrow missed, but so did her blades. He was already preparing another shot by the time Ziris turned to face him again, and he aimed it at her heart.

Ziris circled closer to him as he tracked her movements with his arrow. He was ready to fire when she surprised him by jumping to the left rather than to the right, as he'd expected. He turned to focus on her again, but she was quick; as he rotated, she moved in the opposite direction, and managed to nick his shoulder with her sword before he'd realized what she'd done, and jumped away.

"Long range against a dual-wielder," she said airily as Hainin dropped his arrow in favor of reaching up to touch his injured shoulder. "Not really a fair fight, in my opinion."

Hainin removed his hand, and glanced down at it. His fingers were stained red with blood. Exhaling, he looked at Ziris. "Do you have another suggestion?"

The thief shrugged. "You could leave."

"You know I can't," Hainin said.

"Why not? You were sent to kill Cry four times, and you didn't do it."

"That was different."

"Was it?" Ziris sounded angry, now. "How?"

"She had something important to do," Hainin replied, cupping his shoulder again. The wound burned, badly. "I couldn't kill her; if I had, we'd all be dead right now." He frowned at Ziris. "Which is why I don't understand how you could want her dead. She saved Skyrim."

"I know," Ziris said, shortly, "and that's why."

"What?" Hainin asked, genuinely confused.

"I want her dead because she saved Skyrim, saved the world. Everyone thinks she's still got so much power, but she doesn't, because she already did what she was supposed to do. Her story's over." She scowled. "At least, it should be. It isn't fair that she keeps getting so much attention. She was so close to being chosen as High Queen, and why? Because she shouts and can slow down time? Who cares?"

Hainin couldn't believe this. "So… you're just jealous, then," he said, slowly. "Jealous of her popularity, jealous of her life. I bet you're jealous that she has so many people who care about her, and you probably don't have _anyone_ like that."

Ziris glared openly at him. "I don't care about things like that," she stated. "I stopped craving affection a long time ago. It makes a person weak, which I learned the hard way." She began to pace, making Hainin think that she was losing her will to fight. "It weakened Nazir; he came so close to killing Cry because we threatened you and the Brotherhood."

"Don't talk about him," Hainin growled, her disgusted tone hitting a soft spot.

Ziris looked at him, and stopped pacing. "It weakened Brynjolf; he was so busy vying for Cry's attention in Solitude that he didn't realize how many times I was gone, off meeting with my fellow conspirators, Nazir included."

"Stop it." Hainin's grip on his bow tightened considerably. His shoulder wound throbbed angrily.

Ziris met his gaze. "It's made you weak, too, Hainin," she said, softly. "More than once. It's weakening you right now; you don't want to kill me, but you're so attached to the Dragonborn that you have to. You're confused, and it's going to kill you, just like it kills everyone else who subjects themselves to the idiocy of love and affection."

She spat the last word, and then ran at him, her blades flashing in the late afternoon light. Hainin, surprised by this sudden attack, could do nothing but drop his bow as Ziris ran into him at full speed, toppling them both to the grass.

A struggle ensued. Hainin used one arm to keep her blades as far from his body as possible, while the other hand, on the injured arm, groped around in the grass for his fallen arrow. It was his only chance of getting out of this situation alive. Clearly, talks were over.

Ziris grunted with effort as she pushed against his arm, trying to get at least one blade into his throat. "Love is weakness," she snarled, her eyes flashing with hatred for the subject. "It's about time everyone realized it, and if I have to kill you to prove it, I will!"

Hainin strained, holding her back and focusing his attention on his other hand, which was failing in its search. A lot of his mind was focused on the pain in his shoulder, which was increasingly getting worse. He closed his eyes and did something that he'd never done: he sent a prayer to any Divine that might've been listening.

 _Dear Gods, it's me, Hainin…_

His hand was pricked with a sharp pain, and he closed it around the shaft of his fallen arrow.

"Admit it, Listener," Ziris hissed at him. "Love does nothing but kill."

"I'd never say something so blatantly wrong," Hainin bit back, and then he brought his arrow up and shoved it into the side of the Guild Master's neck.

The thief's eyes went wide, and all of the fight left her almost instantly. A wet gurgle left her mouth. A thin trail of blood appeared right after it, and then she collapsed directly on top of the assassin, dead.

He rolled her off of him, panting. Slowly, he sat up, and then he hung his head between his knees and vomited into the grass before collapsing.

* * *

 _ **A Thief's Journey**_ **had 77,752 words. This chapter has 3,752.**

 **Next week will be some trivia about _The Reaction_ , and then the week after will be the final installment of _A Story's Conclusion_ : _The End._**


	24. The Reaction - Trivia!

**We have reached the end of the second part of _A Story's Conclusion_ , which means it's time for more trivia!**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **manu: I love when a reaction is exactly what I wanted it to be. Thank you, friend, for giving me what I was hoping to achieve with the conclusion to Part 2.**

 **Guest: Poor Ziris, for succumbing to influence, and poor Hainin, for having to listen to her negativeness! Hopefully, everyone can get some kind of a break in Part 3.**

* * *

 **Some Part 2 Trivia!**

* * *

1\. This part has more words than the first but it's almost an entire page shorter. Ain't that funny?

2\. Ziris wasn't always going to be a villain, kids.

3\. Originally, she wasn't going to have any kind of relationship with Mercer, either, but… well, one thing led to another, and here we are.

4\. I came up with the idea of Ziris being a villain when I realized that she was the only one of my OCs that Google Docs insisted had their name spelled wrong, every fuckin' time. I figured that was an omen, a sign, and so I did the thing.

5\. Ziris also wasn't going to die, but then I realized that having Hainin kill her would be an awesome final chapter of _The Reaction_ , so that's what happened.

6\. I messed around with the idea of Brynjolf killing her, instead, but I decided that it wasn't what I wanted, and I stuck with Hainin being the one to do it.

7\. I wrote Ziris and another's character's deaths in the same evening, and it was a _rough_ one.

8\. You'll find out who that other character is in the next part, and y'all are gonna be super shook.

9\. Also, uhm, the baby? Yeah, that wasn't ever going to be a thing, until I decided that it was necessary, and so I made it a thing.

10\. Before y'all ask, yes, there is going to be a baby. You'll see.

11\. Brynjolf and Cry's dance in the A Wedding chapter was inspired by the dance sequence from _Enchanted_ , which is a rockin' live action Disney movie with Amy Adams and my boy Patrick Dempsey. It's great. Hit it up, if you haven't seen it before.

12\. I decided that having Farkas be the one to perform the Black Sacrament was a cool way of showing that he was all right with the assassins, especially after having lived in the Sanctuary for however long they have been at this point.

13\. Ziris didn't go insane; Mercer's influence brought out her true colors, and that was what was revealed during this second part. Brynjolf is the only one who really understands this, and probably will remain to be the only one.

14\. Thrynn is going to be heartbroken, but we won't see much of that in the third part, because this story isn't about him.

15\. If you want, though, I'll write a one-shot about it or something, I don't know.

16\. Ziris lost her ability to love when her parents died in the vampire attack.

17\. I think her death is probably one of the most tragic things I've ever written, mostly because… she didn't have to die.

18\. Originally, Ziris was originally going to have a baby, and, in true _Waitress_ style, was going to tell Brynjolf to fuck off and have a good life. That didn't last very long.

19\. There was also going to be a part where Cry and Vilkas decided to leave Skyrim for Morrowind, and there was going to be another story about the Dragonborn DLC. That idea lasted a bit longer than the Ziris-baby one, but still, it didn't follow through.


	25. The End - Prologue

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Another death is indeed on its way. No one is safe when _I'm_ writing them, me, the Queen of Angst. **

* * *

**Here we are at the prologue of the third and final addition to _A Story's Conclusion_ , _The End_. **

**That doesn't sound ominous at all.  
Let's jump right into it. **

* * *

**The End: Prologue**

* * *

A lone figure stood in the grove of trees just outside of Riften's walls, glancing around. They were meant to be meeting someone, but that someone had yet to show up, and the figure was beginning to wonder whether or not she would.

As time passed, the figure heard the sounds of animals moving through the underbrush in the surrounding trees, as well as night birds hooting and chirping from within the leaves. The sounds of late night were disturbing, alone in the woods, and the figure bundled their cloak tighter around their shoulders.

There was the sound of footfalls, and the figure stiffened. They turned around to face whoever it was that was approaching them, and their heart dropped into their stomach when they saw that it wasn't who it was supposed to be.

"I knew it," Aela said, moving into the clearing, scowling. "I knew I recognized your scent, the first time I came across your little group of murderers." She bared her teeth. "Traitor. I should kill you right here."

The figure pushed their hood down off of their head, and faced Aela, hopefully appearing more calm than she actually felt.

"I knew you'd figure it out, eventually," Ria said, eyeing Aela as she moved closer. "Where's Ziris?"

"Dead, as you should be," Aela answered, her eyes narrowed. "Not my work, unfortunately. I wish it had been." Her fingers twitched, wanting to grab her bow and an arrow, and fire it directly into Ria's heart. "Why? Why did you decide to do this?"

"Why?" Ria let out a humorless laugh. "You must be kidding, Aela."

"I'm not," Aela stated firmly. "I want to know what's possessed you to make you decide that Cry deserves to die, when she doesn't."

Ria released a breath. "She deserves it," she said, slowly. "You would realize it, too, if you would stop romanticizing her, just like practically everyone else."

"Romanticizing? Are you kidding me? She _saved the world_. She's our _Harbinger_."

"Exactly!" Ria practically shouted. "She did this! She's all this! Who _cares_? She not anymore special than you, or than me. She's just a _human_ , same as everyone else. It doesn't matter what she did, because she did it, and now it's over!" She shook her head. "At least, it should be, but is it? No, it's not, because everyone just keeps talking about it, and I'm sick of it! Ziris was sick of it too."

"Whose idea was it?" Aela demanded. "Yours, or hers? And I'd consider your answer very carefully, because it could be that your life depends on it."

"You know what? Go ahead and kill me." Ria held out her arms. "I know you won't actually do it, because you wouldn't do anything without the permission of your precious _Harbinger_ first." She glared at Aela. "It was my idea. I wanted her dead, and when I ran into Ziris while on a job in Riften, I found out that she hated Cry just as much as I do. We were the perfect team, just enough hate and intelligence between us."

"You're disgusting," Aela said, wrinkling her nose.

"Am I?" Ria laughed dryly. "Originally, we thought we had the perfect weapon, too. Nazir seemed like the right person we needed to kill her, without asking any questions. We didn't take into account the fact that he's in love, though, and that the person's he's in love with loves Cry. Obviously, that _affection_ put a crack in our plans, and we had to come up with something different."

"I don't want to hear this," Aela told her, reaching for her bow. "I want you to leave. Leave Skyrim, and never come back, and maybe, if you're lucky, I won't come after you."

Ria ignored her. "We decided that people who don't know Cry, who hold no allegiance to her, would be better able to kill her, and we were right." She rolled her eyes. "At least, they did better than Nazir by making sure her spawn didn't enter the world. At least we gained some satisfaction from that."

"How did you even know about the babe?" Aela asked. "Vilkas and Cry had no idea."

"That doesn't surprise me; they can be so obtuse." Ria rolled her eyes. "It wasn't hard to tell, based on the signs. Cry was vomiting, and her appetite had changed… a short chat with Danica Pure-Spring gave me all the information I needed. I think Danica thought _I_ was the one carrying a baby."

"You planned it that way, then? For the arrow to hit Cry and kill the babe?"

"No, we were hoping it'd kill her, too, of course," Ria responded. "The loss of the babe was just a bonus. After the babe died, and Cry suffered from it, though… that was fun to hear about from Ziris."

"How did Ziris know? Brynjolf couldn't have told her; he left Windhelm before anyone found out about it." Aela frowned to herself. "Was there someone else? Someone telling her things, so that she could relay it back to you and whoever else you were conspiring with?"

Ria offered her a thin smile. "We hear plenty of things from little birds all over Skyrim, just like you. Let's just say that having a wealthy Guild Master as part of the group meant there was always a steady flow of money that could be handed over to any available guard who was looking to share information for the right price."

"So you bribed them, then."

"Of course," Ria said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Almost anyone will spy on people for money."

Aela gazed at her for a moment. "What do you plan on doing next?"

"Well, now that Ziris is dead, I have two options," Ria commented, almost to herself. She started to pace. "I could find someone else, and continue this plan of mine, or I could not, and just go back to living the way I was, silently hating Cry a little more everyday and imagining every possible death scenario I can think of with her at the center." She paused and glanced at Aela. "What do you think?"

"I think your third option would work best: you leave Skyrim, never come back, and I won't kill you," the huntress answered calmly, more calmly than she'd thought she would.

Ria grinned, one that showed her canines in an almost feral way. "Interestingly enough, I don't like the sound of that plan," she said.

"Oh, that's no good," Aela said. She readied an arrow in her bow's string. "Because that just leaves your fourth and final option."

"Which is?"

"I kill you here and now, and tell Cry and Vilkas and the rest of them that you went off on a job and never came back." Aela shrugged her own shoulders. "That's where you're supposed to be, anyhow, off on a job." She pulled the arrow back and took aim, right between Ria's eyes. "I sort of like that choice the best."

Ria seemed to understand that there was only one way she was getting out of this alive. She swallowed, and casually crossed her arms.

"Let's say I do leave Skyrim," she said. "What would you tell them, then?"

"I'd tell them the same thing I'd tell them if I were to kill you; that you were on a job, and that you just never came back," Aela replied. She narrowed her eyes. "Of course, if you _were_ to come back, I'd know. And I'd find you. And I'd kill you."

Ria frowned at her. "They'll know it was me, then," she said. "That I was the conspirator within the Companions. No doubt Nazir's told them that much, at least."

"Of course he has," Aela said. "That's the only reason I'm here right now." She drew her string back further. "You have three seconds to make your choice."

Ria took a step backwards. "You won't come after me?"

"Not if you stay away."

Ria nodded. "All right," she said, slowly. "I'll go. I'll leave Skyrim, and I won't come back." She narrowed her eyes. "I just want to say one thing, however."

"If it's something about how I'm an idiot for being loyal, I don't want to hear it," Aela replied, her voice a low growl.

Ria was silent for a moment, and then she raised and lowered her shoulders. "You're very intuitive, Aela," she said, "and such a good dog." She pulled up the hood on her cloak and disappeared into the trees.

Aela waited until she could no longer hear or smell Ria before lowering her bow. She glanced around the clearing for a moment, and then let out a sigh and put her bow over the quiver of arrows on her back.

She should've killed her. She knew that, and yet she hadn't, because, at one point, Ria had been a whelp in the Companions, and she'd also been _a_ Companion, a shield-sister. Aela didn't know when her loyalties had dissipated, but at one point, they had existed, and that made it impossible for Aela to kill her.

She cursed her sensitive side before she pushed her way out of the clearing and back towards Riften. She had an assassin to care for.

* * *

 **Yeehaw, that was an abrupt climax to a major mystery. I'm sure a lot of y'all guessed it, though. But maybe not. Who knows?**

 **Let _me_ know, in the reviews!**


	26. The End - A Letter

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: She is stupid, isn't she? Such a terrible reason to try and get someone killed. As for Aela, she has definitely evolved into one of my favorite characters, although that may just be the Aela that I've written.  
I don't really know what you mean by the last part of your review, though, and what 'would you like her and Brynjolf' is in reference to. I'd like to know, though, if you'd like to explain! :)**

* * *

 **The End: A Letter**

* * *

Snow fell softly outside of the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary in Dawnstar. The freshly fallen white powder glistened along the shore just outside the Black Door, and it crunched as Vilkas stepped through it to reach the door. He knew about the secret entrance closer to Dawnstar itself, but he enjoyed the walk back after going to the city. It gave him time to think.

Currently, he was thinking about the letter that had found him while he was in Dawnstar. He recognized the handwriting on it as Aela's, and he could only hope it was good news. He didn't know why, however, Aela would send him good news instead of immediately returning to Dawnstar, which meant, more likely, that it was bad news.

And he was not looking forward to reading it, especially not in front of Cry.

He offered the Black Door the answer to its question, and then stepped into the Sanctuary, stomping snow off his boots before entering it fully, and closing the door behind him.

As usual, it was quiet inside, just as quiet as it was outside. Vilkas listened for a moment, waiting for the sound of laughter, or the clinking of dishes, or the distinctive crinkling of a book page as someone turned it.

None of those sounds reached his ears, however, and he set his shoulders before he headed towards the stairs that would take him down to the dining hall.

He'd barely taken two steps before something shattered, and someone shouted an obscenity. Someone else cackled in response to this obscenity, and Vilkas heard the very clear sound of a hand landing on skin.

"YOU STUPID CLOWN!" That was Babette, the vampire child, shrieking at the top of her lungs. "I WAS WORKING ON THAT POTION FOR THREE DAYS!"

"If the vampire child hadn't been blocking the hallway, then Cicero would not have run into her, and he would not have knocked her potion out of her hands, and it would not be broken." And that was the "stupid clown", or Cicero, responding in an extremely calm voice.

Cicero and the other vampire, Serana, had returned from wherever they had been the day prior, and the usually quiet Sanctuary had been a bed of chaos since then. Cicero had, apparently, gotten over his disapproval of their visitors, and was acting extremely obnoxious, which, Nazir assured Vilkas, was his usual way of acting.

So, all was well, according to the Redguard, but Vilkas thought that Babette would appreciate it if Cicero locked himself into his bedchamber again, as he had when their party had first arrived at the Sanctuary.

He heard the vampire child smack the jester again, harder this time. "You're cleaning this up," she informed him, sounding incredibly annoyed.

"Cicero is busy," was the jester's response. "He must take care of the Night Mother."

"Then why were you _leaving your bedchamber_?" Babette exclaimed.

"Cicero needs the lotion."

Babette let out a frustrated yell and Vilkas heard a third and final smack before silence descended within the Sanctuary once more.

He exhaled, and continued on his way towards the stairs. As he neared the bottom, the smell of the potion that Babette had been making and that Cicero had ruined reached him; it was a strange mixture of mountain flowers and lavender and something less flowery that he couldn't place.

The dining hall was deserted, however, and Vilkas settled down at the table, preparing himself before he opened Aela's letter. He set it down on the table in front of him and gazed at it, frowning slightly.

There was movement from within the hallway, and then Brynjolf appeared, his nose wrinkled.

"What happened back there?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the hallway, no doubt where the scene of the crime had been.

"I don't know. Cicero ruined one of Babette's potions or something like that," Vilkas responded, his gaze not leaving the letter, which Brynjolf had noticed.

"Is that -?"

"It's from Aela," Vilkas answered, still frowning.

Brynjolf was quiet from a moment. "And… you don't think that's a good thing?" he finally queried, and Vilkas shook his head once.

"If it was good news, it would've come from Hainin. Or they would've simply come back to the Sanctuary." Vilkas exhaled and reached for the letter. "Which makes me think this is bad news, and I do not want to know what it is."

He held the letter, but he did not open it. Brynjolf gazed between him and the letter, waiting for Vilkas to make a move. When he didn't, the thief took a cautious step forward, holding out his hand.

"Do you want me to read it?"

Vilkas hesitated a moment, and then his hand made a small movement towards Brynjolf. Before the thief could take the letter, however, Vilkas drew it back.

"No," he said, quietly. "I should read it."

Brynjolf nodded, and let his hand fall to his side. He took a seat at the table across from Vilkas, and watched as the Companion turned the letter over and broke the seal on the back of it. Slowly, he unfolded the parchment, and then his eyes moved across the writing on it.

Brynjolf waited, silently, for Vilkas to finish reading the letter. It seemed that the Companion read through it two or even three times before he finally looked up, setting the parchment down on the table. Still, however, he didn't speak.

"What is it, then?" Brynjolf queried, gesturing to the unfolded parchment.

Vilkas exhaled a slow breath. "Ziris is dead," he began after another moment. "Hainin killed her."

Brynjolf leaned back in his seat. He didn't know what he was supposed to be feeling, but the first emotion he recognized was apathy, so he decided to hold onto that until the conversation was over.

"Well, that was what he was supposed to do, so good," he said, his eyes trained on the tabletop. "Something tells me that's not all, though."

Vilkas closed his eyes. "It seems that Ziris was ready for him, because they fought," he said, slowly. "Ziris managed to injure Hainin. It wouldn't be a bad injury if… if her blade hadn't been coated in poison."

Brynjolf exhaled. Of course. That explained why Hainin hadn't sent the letter himself, and why he and Aela weren't back from Riften. He was recovering from his poisoned wound.

"Well, that's fine," he said after a moment. "When do they expect to be back?"

Vilkas shook his head, and Brynjolf frowned. What did that mean?

Before he could ask, Cry entered the room. "Why does the hallway smell like - oh, is that a letter from Aela or Hainin?"

She hurried to the table and, before either Brynjolf or Vilkas could react, plucked the letter up and read it for herself.

And, just like Vilkas, she read it two or three times before she lowered it and looked at them both.

"We have to go to Riften," she said.

"Cry -"

"Vilkas, I'm not just going to sit here and wait for them to figure it out!" Cry explained. "I'm going to go there, and help them figure it out, because it's _Hainin_ , and he could die, because he was doing something for _me_!" She shook her head and dropped the letter on the table. "I'm not letting someone else get hurt because of me. I refuse."

With that, she left the dining hall, passing right by Nazir as he emerged from it. The Redguard gazed after her until there was the faint sound of a door shutting, and then he turned towards the two Nords seated at the table.

"What's going on?"

Brynjolf looked to Vilkas, who put his head into his hands and didn't speak. Slowly, Brynjolf reached for the letter himself and slid it across the table, as an invitation for Nazir to pick it up and read it.

Nazir read the letter just once before he disappeared from the dining hall, presumably to pack as well.

"I suppose we're going to Riften," Brynjolf said to Vilkas, and then he pushed his chair backwards and stood up. "I guess I'd need to, anyhow, considering I'm the acting Guild Master until we pick a new one."

Brynjolf exited the dining hall, and Vilkas passed a hand over his face before reaching for the letter, which Nazir had let fall to the table. He read through it again.

 _Vilkas,_

 _The arrival of this letter will concern you. Of course, you will wonder why Hainin did not send a letter himself, or you will wonder why we simply did not return to Dawnstar with news. Hopefully, you do not think too hard into either of these subjects, and will instead open the letter and read what I have to say, with haste._  
 _Hainin succeeded in fulfilling his contract. Unfortunately, in his attempt, he was injured. It seems that his adversary's weapon was coated with a special kind of poison, one that neither Riften's court mage nor the healers at the Temple of Mara have been able to extract from his body. They have kept him alive over the past days using a combination of cure poison and health potions, but they do not know how much longer it will work to keep the poison from spreading._  
 _The last thing you will want to do is travel to Riften, but I'll have to insist that you do so, and as quickly as possible. Hainin needs help, and I feel that the young vampire within the Sanctuary may know what to do in order to heal him. If you can, do your best to convince her to travel with you, and if you can't, have Nazir try instead. I do not know how much longer Hainin has before the poison breaks through whatever barrier the combination of healing potions has created within him, nor how long it will take for the poison to spread, which means you must arrive before either of those things happen._

 _Best,_  
 _Aela_

Babette. Of course. She was very skilled with potions of all variety. If she couldn't come up with a concoction that could heal Hainin, no one could.

Vilkas rose from his chair and started down the hallway. The door to his and Cry's bedchamber was closed, and he passed by it in favor of going to Babette's room.

The door was closed, partially, and he could hear a quiet discussion through the small opening. Nazir was already speaking with Babette about her traveling to Riften with them.

"Can't you just bring him here?" he heard the vampire ask.

"We might not have time," Nazir responded. "Hainin's been injured for several days already, which means that the potion combination within him has also been working for several days. Who knows how much longer it will last, especially if the poison is getting stronger the longer it's inside of him."

There was silence for a moment, and then Babette spoke, softly, "Nazir… I don't…"

"I can't lose him." Nazir's tone quieted Babette, and Vilkas closed his eyes at the sound of desperation in the Redguard's voice. "The werewolf said that you might be the only one who can save him. He needs you, and I need him, which means _I_ need you. _Please_ , Babette."

More silence, and then a quiet exhalation of breath. "All right, Nazir," Babette said. "For you, and for Hainin, because I guess I do care about the uppity Imperial. Just a little."

Nazir released a relieved breath of his own. "Thank you," he whispered, and Babette grumbled out a response that Vilkas didn't catch.

He relaxed back against the wall outside of the bedchamber and exhaled himself, sending up a prayer to the Divines and anyone else who might've been listening that Babette would be able to help Hainin, because none of them could lose Hainin. Not after all he'd done.

"Vilkas?" He glanced down the hall, and found Farkas coming towards him, a concerned expression on his face. "What's going on? I tried to talk to Cry, but she wouldn't let me into the room."

Vilkas explained it all to him, and Farkas frowned as he reached the end of the story. "So, now we have to travel to Riften."

"And everyone is all right with it?" Farkas asked, and Vilkas shrugged.

"I haven't spoken to anyone else about it."

"Well, then that's what I'll do," Farkas decided. "You should try to talk to Cry. I think she was crying, which is why I wanted to go in there in the first place, but -"

"I'll take care of it," Vilkas responded, placing his hand on Farkas's shoulder. "She's just… dealing with a lot, right now, and it probably doesn't help that Hainin is in uncertain position. She blames herself."

Farkas's expression turned to one of guilt. "And that's my fault, isn't it?" he asked. "Because I sent Hainin after Ziris?"

Vilkas wanted to deny this, but he didn't know how to. Farkas wasn't necessarily guilty of anything; he hadn't known that Ziris's weapon would be poisoned, and he hadn't known that she'd actually be able to hit Hainin. Still, Vilkas could see why Farkas would feel like it was his fault, but the last thing he needed was for there to be two people that blamed themselves walking around.

"No," he finally said. "It isn't your fault, and it isn't Cry's, either." He considered something to himself for a moment, and then he looked at Farkas. "You know what? You should be the one to talk to Cry. Something tells me that the two of you will feel better if you discuss your guilt with one another."

He took Farkas by the shoulders and directed him in the direction of the bedchamber that he shared with his wife. "Go on," he said, giving his twin a small push. "She'll let you in; you just have to be patient."

"I'm _not_ patient," Farkas mumbled, but all the same he walked down the hall back towards the bedchamber that Cry had encased herself in, because he was definitely more patient than his twin. He paused outside of it, and let out a sigh before straightening his shoulders and reaching out to knock.

"Go away," came Cry's voice through it.

"I just want to talk, Cry," Farkas replied, doing his best to sound as patient as possible.

"I'm busy, Farkas," Cry replied after a moment of silence from her side of the door. "If you want to know what's going on -"

"I already do." She fell silent again, and Farkas rested his forehead against the door. "I know you blame yourself," he continued, "and… I blame myself, too, because I was the one to send Hainin on the job, so if you want to blame ourselves together, I'm all right with that."

Several seconds passed, and Farkas was about to walk away from the door when it opened, and he almost fell into the room. He managed to regain his balance at the last second, and he straightened up to see Cry standing in front of him, eyes red.

"That was funny," she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she turned and retreated back into the bedchamber.

Farkas followed her, making sure to close the door again. He watched her take a seat on the edge of the bed. An open knapsack sat on the floor next to it, filled with some of the things that they'd brought with them to the Sanctuary. Other than that, however, the room was already void of any of the personality that Cry and Vilkas had put into it throughout their stay.

Farkas hesitated a moment before walking over to the bed and joining his friend. Cry was gazing at her feet, letting out the occasional despondent sniff, and Farkas waited for her to speak first. She was the better one at that sort of thing.

Cry eventually let out a sigh and reached up to wipe at her nose again.

"I don't know why I'm crying," she admitted. "I'd like to think it's because… well, y'know, but I think it's genuinely just because I feel terrible."

"You shouldn't," Farkas told her. "This is no more your fault than any of the things that have happened have been."

"It's all been my fault, Farkas," Cry murmured. "All of this has happened because people want me dead."

"And that isn't your fault, so it's not your fault after all," Farkas decided, and he was relieved when Cry smiled, slightly.

"Thank you for trying to make me feel better," she said, and then she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I just… I don't think I'll stop feeling responsible until this is all over, and even then, Ziris's blood is still on my hands." She closed her eyes and hid her face against his shoulder instead, inhaling a shuddering breath. "I didn't want anymore blood on my hands."

"And you don't have any," Farkas insisted, putting an arm around her. "It's not your fault at all, and I want you to stop feeling like it is. You didn't do anything to any of these people."

"Then why do they want me dead?" Cry asked him.

Farkas was silent as he thought it over. He obviously didn't didn't know for sure, but he did have a few suspicions that he thought were more likely than others. So, he decided to share them with her, since she didn't seem to have _any_ suspicions.

"I think that they're jealous of you." Cry let out a snort against his shoulder. "I'm serious," Farkas informed her. "I think they're jealous of you, and how much love and appreciation you have even though it's been so long since you killed the World Eater, and they, for whatever reason, thought that killing you was the way of solving this _problem_."

Cry lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked at him, her brows furrowed. "Really? You think they were pushed to murderous tendencies because of _jealousy_?"

Farkas shrugged the opposite shoulder. "I don't know," he said, "but… I think that if someone lacks all of the attention you have, and they crave it, then they'd be willing to do anything."

"Ziris didn't _lack_ attention, though."

"Then maybe she just didn't understand yours, and she thought it was unnecessary." Farkas shook his head. "I don't know if we'll ever know for sure, but… I don't think they wanted you dead because you harmed them personally."

Cry let out a breath, and then returned her head to his shoulder. "If not, then… how do you think I fix it?" she finally questioned.

"I wish I could tell you," Farkas answered after a moment of thought. "I think that all you can do is just… not let it change you, as a person. You're doing nothing wrong."

Cry smiled sadly. "I wish I could agree with you on that one, Farkas," she said, softly, "but it's hard to, when people want me dead because of what I'm doing."

* * *

 **And so the tale begins. Hainin's fate hangs in the balance, Vilkas avoids his duty as a husband, and Cry is, once again, blaming herself for the things that other people have done.**

 **What will happen next in the exciting installment of _A Story's Conclusion: The End_? Tune in next week to find out!**


	27. The End - Riften

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: Oh! I get it! Actually, I don't really 'ship' Aela and Brynjolf as a couple. I'm more attached to Brynjolf and Vex, to be honest, although in my universe Vex is quite a bit older than Brynjolf. But hey, I guess I could probably write a one-shot for Bryn and Aela, not as a couple, but just as a... I don't know. A partnership of some kind? Maybe. We'll have to see.**

* * *

 **The End: Riften**

* * *

It took them all two days to reach Riften. Nazir and Babette left the Sanctuary as soon as dusk fell on the day Vilkas had received the letter from Aela, and the rest of them went the morning after. Cicero had elected to stay at the Sanctuary, since Babette wouldn't let him travel with her and Nazir, and since he didn't want to travel with Cry and her entourage. Serana chose to stay behind in order to keep an eye on the jester.

As the gates of Riften appeared to where Cry sat in the back of the wagon they'd brought with them to Dawnstar, she thought she could feel a heaviness in the air. Glancing at Brynjolf, she saw that he could feel it, too.

She nudged him with her knee. "What do you think it is?"

"I think the Guild is angry," Brynjolf replied, his voice low, and Cry swallowed thickly.

"Probably," she whispered, and then she sank down further in her spot.

Vilkas, who was sitting at the front of the wagon, driving the horse, glanced over his shoulder towards the three that were sitting in the wagon. Cry and Brynjolf both looked worried, and Farkas was sleeping, having sat up on watch until dawn.

The Master at Arms exhaled, and faced forward again. No one out of the four of them had relaxed since they'd heard the news about Hainin.

He didn't think the housecarls were reacting quite as badly, but they sensed that their thane was distressed, so they were acting appropriately. All those who had traveled with them walked solemnly on either side of and behind the wagon.

Since Calder and Iona had gone to Solitude, Cry sending Rayya with them at the last moment, that left only Gregor, Vald, and Argis to accompany them to Riften. Vilkas didn't mind, considering one of the conspirators was dead, and, if Cry was correct, the other one was hopefully in Whiterun with no idea of where they were.

They reached the city's gates, and Vilkas climbed down from the wagon in order to speak with the stable master. Brynjolf hopped down to solid ground, then reached up to help Cry down as well. She grunted slightly, and Brynjolf looked at her in alarm.

"What? What is it? Does something hurt?"

Cry gave him an annoyed look, the most regular thing that had happened in three days. "No," she said. "I've just been sitting for a long time and my legs are asleep." She smacked the right one with the flat of her hand, and winced. "All right, not asleep anymore."

Brynjolf exhaled a relieved breath as Farkas joined them on the ground. Vilkas returned shortly after, and gestured for them to follow him.

Cry practically ran towards the gates of Riften, and Brynjolf followed at a slower pace, Farkas trailing along beside him.

"Are you going straight to the Ratway?" the Companion asked, and Brynjolf nodded.

"I think I'll need to. The spies on the surface will know as soon as I enter the city, and they'll immediately let the Guild know that I'm back." He frowned slightly. "Everyone is going to wonder where I was. I suppose I'll have to tell them the truth, however much it's going to hurt."

"Will they believe you?" Farkas queried, and Brynjolf glanced ahead to where Vilkas was waiting for Cry to enter Riften first.

"I hope so, and if not… I might need some help," the thief said.

The two followed behind Vilkas through the gate, and Brynjolf looked at Cry. "I wish I could come see Hainin with you, but I need to get down to the Guild," he said. Cry looked distressed, but Brynjolf held up his hands. "As soon as I can settle things down, I'll come find you, I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Cry told him.

Brynjolf nodded to her, and then to Vilkas and Farkas, before he disappeared.

At this point, the three housecarls had entered the city as well, and they were lingering close by, waiting for instructions. Cry looked at Farkas, who sighed, but went over to them.

Cry then turned to Vilkas. "Are they at the Temple of Mara?" she asked him.

"I would think so," Vilkas replied. "We'll head there first."

"That'd be a waste of time." Aela appeared, looking exhausted, and Cry immediately hurried towards her.

"Where is he? Are Nazir and Babette here? Is she figuring out how to help him?" She fired questions at the huntress in rapid succession, and Aela held up a hand to stop her.

"I'll show you," she said, and then she turned and started in the direction of the city's marketplace.

"What are we doing?" Argis asked Farkas, frowning as he watched Aela lead Vilkas and Cry away from them. "Why aren't we going with them?"

Farkas merely shook his head in response to Argis's questions. "We're going to wait here. I don't think they want us all going to where Hainin is right now." He glanced around momentarily, feeling more exhausted than he had before falling asleep in the wagon.

He bit back a yawn as he turned back to the three housecarls. "I'd suggest we try to get rooms at the inn, but I don't have any spare gold," he said.

"We could just go sit inside," Vald replied.

"What if the innkeeper kicks us out?" Gregor questioned, frowning.

"We'll just have to take our chances," Vald said, heading for the inn, "because I'm not standing up until someone comes and tells us what's going on."

Farkas, relieved that no one was asking for instructions for once, immediately went after him, which meant that the other two followed. Once inside the Bee and Barb, the four of them settled down in the first available seats they spotted.

Farkas gratefully sank down in the chair he had claimed, his eyes closing. All he wanted to do was sleep. He'd never been so tired before, and he knew it was mostly because of all that had happened in such a short period of time. He just wasn't able to keep up with it all.

Cry and Vilkas followed Aela, and Cry frowned slightly as she led them down a set of stairs outside the Honorhall Orphanage to the docks beneath the city. Aela led the way around the docks to a wooden door, which she opened.

Vilkas entered through it first, and Cry followed, keeping close to him. On the other side, instead of finding a dank dungeon of disease, she was surprised to find a cozy shop of some kind. By the amount of colorful bottles lining the shelves, she guessed it was an apothecary.

Aela closed the door behind her, and gestured for them to follow her around the counter and into the back room. Cry gripped Vilkas's hand, and he led the way after Aela.

In the back room, there was a double bed, a small table, and a fireplace. Seated at the table were Babette and an older man, probably the owner of the shop. Crouched beside the double bed were an older woman, and Nazir, both of whom were fussing over Hainin, who was laying on the bed.

Cry immediately left Vilkas's side and went to join them. Vilkas, meanwhile, followed Aela to the table.

"This is Vilkas," Aela said by way of introduction.

The older man looked up, and Vilkas was relieved to see that he looked friendly. As if to prove this, he smiled, and held up a hand for Vilkas to shake. "I'm Elgrim. Your friend here brought your other friend to me when the court mage and the priests at the Temple proved useless. I have no doubt that if she'd known I was here that she would have come to me, first."

"So you've been trying to find out what poisoned him, exactly, and how to extract it?" Vilkas asked, and Elgrim nodded.

"It's difficult, considering I can't extract any of the poison to test it, which means I can't figure out how to counteract it, but Babette here has been a big help. I think we're actually getting somewhere with this concoction she's come up with," the potion maker stated, gesturing towards the parchment Babette had sitting on the table in front of her.

Vilkas didn't even try to make sense of the ingredients and measurements listed on it. Instead, he looked back to Elgrim, and said, "Whatever you do, we'll definitely pay you for your services. He means a lot to my wife." Vilkas gestured towards where Cry was currently seated on the edge of the bed, washing Hainin's forehead with a cloth.

"I've gathered that he means a lot to that Redguard over there as well," Elgrim responded. "We'll discuss pay, if it's even necessary, once the young man feels better."

Vilkas nodded, then glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice and speaking directly to Elgrim. "I hate to ask this but… do you think the poison will hold off much longer?"

"We've been adjusting the mixture that the priests created," Babette answered before Elgrim could. "We have to give him a little more every six hours, but for now, he's stable."

"The sooner we can find a cure, however, the better," Elgrim put in, and Babette nodded her agreement. "It'd be nice if we knew what the poison had been."

Vilkas frowned to himself. "There might be a way to find out," he said, and then he walked over to where Cry was, and started to reach out to touch her shoulder. Before he could, however, his gaze landed on Hainin, and he inhaled.

The Listener did not _look_ stable. He was colorless, and blankets were tucked around him up to his chin. He was lying still, but his expression was a grimace, as though he was internally fighting against the poison that was trying so hard to kill him.

Which he was, although he wasn't aware of it.

"Why is he covered in blankets?" Vilkas asked, glancing around at the three surrounding the bed.

"He's been shivering since Aela brought him here," the older woman said. "We don't know why, but we imagine it's because of the poison. We've been doing our best to keep him warm."

Vilkas frowned to himself. He'd never heard of a poison doing something like that, aside from the venom of frostbite spiders. Perhaps that was a component of the poison Ziris had used.

"Cry," he said, pulling his gaze away from Hainin. "I have an idea."

Cry glanced up at him. "What is it?"

"We need to find out what the poison that Ziris used was," he answered. "Do you think someone in the Guild might know?"

"Maybe," Cry said, frowning. "We could talk to Brynjolf, but I feel as though if anyone knew, it would've been him, and he didn't say anything."

Vilkas exhaled, and Cry gestured to the older woman. "This is Hafjorg. She helps run the shop."

Hafjorg nodded to Vilkas. "Your Imperial here is in a bad way," she said, "but we're taking care of him."

"We appreciate it," Vilkas said, and he glanced at Nazir, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, and hadn't said a single word. In fact, Vilkas hadn't seen him look up from Hainin once.

Vilkas shook his head and looked at Cry again. "I'm going to go find Brynjolf, or have Farkas do it, and tell him we need to speak with him."

Cry nodded, and then she returned her attention to Hainin.

Vilkas gazed at Hainin for another moment, and then he turned and went back to the table. "Babette," he started, and she looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Would you be willing to come with me down to the Ratway?"

"Why the Ratway?" Elgrim questioned, tilting his head in curiosity.

Vilkas glanced at Aela, who shrugged her shoulders. Clearly, she hasn't explained everything, and was giving Vilkas the choice of doing so.

He exhaled, and looked at Elgrim again. "I'll explain it at some point," he said.

Elgrim frowned slightly, but nodded, once. "Very well," he said, and then his and Babette's heads bent over her sheet of parchment once more. Apparently, Babette was not willing.

Vilkas gestured for Aela to come with him, and she did, following him out of the shop and onto the docks outside of it. Once the door was closed, Vilkas turned to her.

"Have you slept?" he asked, and she shook her head. "You need to sleep."

"I'm fine," Aela mumbled, waving her hand dismissively. "I've stayed up longer than this, believe me, and we have things to discuss."

"Such as?" Vilkas inquired, crossing his arms. "What could be more important than you getting some sleep?"

Aela sighed. "I found out who the conspirator within the Companions was," she said.

Vilkas blinked at her. "You did?" Aela nodded. "Who was it?"

"It doesn't matter; I've sent them away," Aela replied. "They're gone, and they won't be coming back. You'll find out who it was as soon as we return to Whiterun and Jorrvaskr, and I don't know how surprised you'll be." She kicked at the dock. "I regret not killing them, but I… I couldn't, Vilkas."

Vilkas nodded. "I understand," he said, "but if they do return to Skyrim -"

"Then they're dead," Aela finished for him. "I already covered that."

"Good." Vilkas glanced around. "So, we're safe to return home as soon as we can?" he asked, and Aela nodded once more. Vilkas's shoulders relaxed, and he reached up with one hand to rub at his eyes. "Thank the Gods."

"We need to go to the Ratway?" Aela prompted, and Vilkas looked at her.

"You need to go rest," he said, and, as she started to argue again, he handed her a small coin purse. "Here. Rent us enough rooms at the inn to suit eight of us."

"Eight?" Aela asked, frowning. "Aren't there supposed to be eleven?"

"Calder and Iona are in Solitude, and Cry sent Rayya with them, as well. I'll explain it more later. Go get some sleep, please," Vilkas persisted. "Cry will be fine where she is."

Aela nodded, and she started in the direction of the stairs. She paused, however, before she could go too far, and glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Vilkas," she started, and he stopped as well. Looking at her, he saw that she seemed concerned. "Please be careful. The Guild's head was killed because of your wife. Keep that in mind while you're down in their territory."

"I will. Thank you, Aela. For everything you've done," Vilkas told her, and then he headed for the final door on the very edge of the dock.

Aela made her way up to the main level of Riften, and towards the Bee and Barb. Once she entered the inn, she immediately made her way over to the Argonian standing behind the bar.

"How many rooms do you have available?" she asked, dropping the coin purse onto the counter.

The Argonian eyed the purse. "How many do you need?"

"Enough for eight people, two of which are married, and the rest of which can share with whoever," Aela answered, nudging the purse forward slightly with the back of her hand.

The Argonian nodded, and picked up the coin purse. "I'll show you to them. We have four rooms upstairs; luckily for you, all of them are empty. One of them has a double bed."

"That's great," Aela said, fighting back a yawn. "Thank you."

The Argonian led the way up the stairs. Aela heard the three male housecarls tromping up them after her, and the Argonian gestured to the four closed doors on either side of the second floor.

"Here you are," she said.

Aela nodded to her, and then she gestured to one with her head. Gregor and Vald immediately headed for it, Argis ducking into the one next to it, and she and Farkas started for the one opposite. There they found two single beds, and Farkas immediately dropped down onto one, directly onto his face.

Aela settled down more slowly, taking the time to remove her boots before laying down. She was exhausted, but her mind was racing; she shouldn't have allowed Vilkas to go down into the Ratway on his own. She should have gone with him. She wouldn't have been able to help much in a fight, but at least it would've been better odds.

"Aela, I can hear you thinking," Farkas mumbled, his face still pressed into his pillow. "Please stop and go to sleep."

Aela huffed out a breath, and turned over so that her back was facing him. She needed sleep, but she couldn't sleep, not while knowing that Cry was unguarded in the apothecary, and that Vilkas was alone in the Ratway, with the group of people that one of Cry's wannabe assassins had come from. She wouldn't be able to relax without knowing that they were both safe.

"Farkas," she began, turning her head so that she could look at him. He responded with a muffled snore, and Aela let out a sigh, turning back to the wall. If she went after Vilkas, he would get mad at her. If she went back to the apothecary, Cry wouldn't even realize she was there; she was too busy worrying about Hainin.

There was no point. She'd just have to stay at the inn, and wait for an update. If she managed to get some sleep during the waiting period, that would be good, too, because then Vilkas wouldn't yell at her for not resting while she was able.

She was glad that she was able to help Hainin in the way that she had; by first getting him to the court mage, and then by getting him to the priests at the Temple of Mara, and then for having the smarts enough to carry him down to potion makers, who were the last chance that the Listener had. If they couldn't help him, he was dead.

Aela knew that Cry wouldn't be able to handle it, if Hainin died. She also knew that Nazir would possibly kill himself, if Hainin died. The last thing they needed was more tragedy, especially after everything that had happened. She could only hope that the combined knowledge of Babette and Elgrim would be able to heal him.

Slowing down her thoughts by focusing on one thing at a time, a thing she couldn't do anything about, was working in helping her get to sleep. Her eyes were drooping, and she was starting to relax. She kept her focus on thoughts that she had already done everything she could, and could only wait, now.

She relaxed further, and her thoughts started to drift away slightly, into a haze. She saw a pale, hazy red, and she sank into her dream world, where she did nothing but hunt, and the worries of real life were nonexistent.

* * *

 **I love when there's little to no amounts of italicized text in a chapter, because it makes editing a crapload easier.**

 **Also, I might change to two chapters a week, just to see how that works. It might not last; just depends on how I feel, I guess.**

 **Also, oh _shit_ , what's wrong with Hainin? What kind of poison did Ziris coat her blades with? Will Brynjolf be able to break the news of Ziris's change for the worst to the Thieves Guild? Find out in the next installment of _A Story's Conclusion: The End_!**


	28. The End - Telling the Guild

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: I hope you can get your computer to cooperate with you! I know how annoying it can be, when something you use everyday doesn't want to work. And thank you, Aela's definitely a good one.**

 **Guest: I mean, I wouldn't ever write a story about Vex and Brynjolf, as a couple, but in-game, they just seem like there's history. And yes, striking fear into the hearts of readers is always my goal, hahaha!**

* * *

 **The End: Telling the Guild**

* * *

Brynjolf had immediately headed for the cistern, not seeing any reason to not go in the secret entrance. As he lowered himself down off of the ladder, he was surprised to hear that no one was reacting to his arrival. He turned around, and was faced with an empty cistern.

Confused, he circled the perimeter, and poked his head into the training room as well, just to make sure that the cistern was, indeed, completely void of thieves.

Frowning to himself, Brynjolf headed for the Ragged Flagon. As soon as he walked through the door leading to it out of the cistern, he was hit by a flood of noise, and he exhaled, knowing why they were most likely all gathered there.

He pushed his way out through the hidden doorway in the cabinet, and found the Flagon filled to the brim with Guild members, Vekel, Dirge, and their first one to spot him was Delvin, however, and the Breton immediately hurried over to him.

"Bryn, it's just awful," he started. "Ziris is dead. Some Dark Brotherhood assassin got to her, and we have no idea why!"

"I do," Brynjolf said, and then he pushed his way to the center of the room. His movement caught the attention of everyone who was gathered, and he heard surprised exclamations and quiet murmuring. He raised his hands, and it all immediately went silent.

Brynjolf looked around at his Guild, trying to figure out how to begin.

"Hi," he said, which was as good a start as anything. "I know you're all probably wondering where I've been, and I'll explain it to you, as soon as I explain what happened to me."

"What happened to you?" Vipir called, only to be elbowed sharply in the ribs by Niruin.

Brynjolf ignored this, and went on: "As you all know, Ziris and I went to the royal wedding a little over a month ago. Originally, we planned to return as soon as the wedding was over, but… something occurred that made that impossible."

"Which was?" Vex inquired from where she leaned against a table.

"Someone made an attempt on Cry Silverworthy's life," Brynjolf responded.

There was silence, and then, someone whispered: "Who in the Eight Divines is that?"

And someone else: "The Dragonborn, you idiot."

Brynjolf chose to ignore this as well. "As such, I was going to stay in Windhelm, do what I could to figure out who had tried to kill her, and why. Ziris, however, elected to leave the city. King Ulfric didn't appreciate this, and he sent me after her to keep her from telling anyone that the Dragonborn had been shot by a poisoned arrow.

"I had expected Ziris to go straight to Riften, but she hadn't. I followed the odd trail she'd left behind, which included a stop in Whiterun for whatever reason. Eventually, I caught up with her in the woods just outside of Riften's walls, and I demanded to know what she'd been doing."

Brynjolf hesitated a moment before continuing, "She… she told me that she'd been part of the plan to kill the Dragonborn. When I asked her why, she didn't have an answer, and instead pummeled me with a rock."

He gestured to the freshly healed scar on his head, and several of the thieves shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't doubt that she intended for me to die, but I like to think I'm made of sturdy stuff." Brynjolf exhaled. "She returned to Riften, I suppose, and I went to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary -"

"Wait, hold on," Thrynn interrupted, pushing his way to the front of the group. "Are you saying that you asked the Dark Brotherhood to kill Ziris?"

More muttering. Brynjolf looked around at his thieves, and then at Thrynn. "No, I'm not," he said, calmly. "I'm saying I went to the Sanctuary to tell Cry about what Ziris had done, so that she could do whatever she wanted about it. At that point, after having Ziris try to have Cry killed, and then trying to kill _me_ , I figured she'd committed enough crimes to receive whatever was coming to her."

There was silence for a moment, and then Rune pushed his way forward, until he was standing beside Thrynn.

"She's dead, Bryn," the young thief said, quietly. "The guards found her about a week ago, and recognized her by her armor. Maul told Dirge, and Dirge told us. Delvin and Vex retrieved her from the Temple of Mara."

"Where is she now?" Brynjolf asked, deciding to leave out the fact that he knew she was already dead.

"We buried her already," Thrynn replied, his arms crossed and his face masked.

Brynjolf let out a breath, and squared his shoulders. "All right," he said. "She deserved that much." He looked around at everyone. "We'll obviously need to decide on a new Guild Master, and I want to formally withdraw my name from the pool."

"What?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Brynjolf, you can't be serious!"

There was an explosion of opposition from practically everyone aside from Thrynn, who merely stared at him, arms still crossed.

Brynjolf glanced around at all of them, frowning to himself. Did they really want him to be Guild Master? He didn't think the position suited him whatsoever. He didn't know who else it suited, either, but he certainly didn't want it.

"People, people, please," he said, putting up his hands in a peace gesture. The crowd quieted down, and he crossed his arms. "I really don't want the position. I don't think I could handle it."

"And who else do you suggest take it instead?" Delvin demanded of him. "Me? Vex? Neither one of us want it, either, and a good Guild Master _wants_ the position."

"Ziris didn't want it," Thrynn muttered, and then he pushed his way past Brynjolf and headed for the cistern.

His exit left the Flagon in an awkward silence, which was only broken when there was a new arrival, pushing his way through where Garthar and Cynric were standing near the bridge.

"Brynjolf," Vilkas started, and then he paused, glancing around at everyone. "I'm interrupting something?"

"Nothing that can't wait," Brynjolf responded, and then he exhaled and looked at the Companion. "What do you need?"

"I was hoping to discuss something with you," Vilkas said, looking at Garthar, who had his eyes narrowed at him. The Companion straightened his shoulders and turned his attention to Brynjolf. "In private, preferably."

Brynjolf nodded. "Sure," he said. "Why don't you come with me?" He gestured with a jerk of his head, and Vilkas moved towards him, ignoring the looks he was receiving from the other thieves. Brynjolf let him duck into the secret passage ahead of him, and he looked around at everyone. "We'll discuss this further, later," he said, mostly to Delvin and Vex, and then he followed Vilkas.

He led him into the cistern, where Thrynn was sitting on the edge of his bed, his gaze trained on the floor. He glanced up at their arrival, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of Vilkas. He glowered at Brynjolf accusingly, but the redhead ignored him, instead pointing in the direction of the hall leading to the training room.

"We can talk in there," he said, and Vilkas nodded in agreement.

The two of them headed in that direction, and once they were in the room, Vilkas paced to the center of it, crossing his arms. Brynjolf remained near the entryway, keeping an eye on the hall to make sure no one decided they wanted to eavesdrop. He glanced at Vilkas, and focused most of his attention on the Companion.

"How is he?" he asked, meaning Hainin.

Vilkas let out a breath, and shook his head. "It doesn't seem like anything is going to change immediately, but we don't know how much longer the mixed concoction of potions is going to keep the poison at bay." He looked at Brynjolf. "The poison is what I wanted to talk to you about."

Brynjolf frowned at this, and returned his gaze to Vilkas; he'd been looking down the hall while Vilkas had explained what was going on. "Talk to me? Why?"

"We thought that, if anyone knows what kind of poison Ziris used on her blade, it would be you," Vilkas explained. "The alchemist said that we can't come up with a counter-potion if we don't know what the poison was."

"The alchemist?"

Vilkas nodded. "Aela brought Hainin to the city's apothecary when the priests and the court mage couldn't do anything for him." He exhaled and focused on the ground. "So… do you know what Ziris's poison was?"

Brynjolf thought about it for a moment, and in doing so lost whatever small remnant of focus he still had on the hallway. "I don't know," he said, softly. "I… I never knew her to be one to have to use poison, you know? She was a skilled fighter; that was what a lot of her training with Mercer Frey focused on."

Vilkas looked distressed. "So you have no idea?"

Brynjolf shook his head. "I really don't. I wish I did, but…"

"But she didn't trust you enough to tell you."

Brynjolf whipped around to see that Thrynn had come down the hallway, and was now standing in the entryway to the training room. He had his arms crossed, and looked less angry than he had before. In fact, he almost looked defeated.

"She didn't really trust me, either, but I sort of caught her looking at it one day," he said, quietly. "She had it hidden in the Guild Master's desk. I think it was Mercer's, before, but she found it and decided to keep it." He glanced up. "I guess she managed to get some use out of it, although I don't know if it was for the right reason."

"Thrynn, do you know what was in the poison?" Brynjolf asked, carefully, and Thrynn glanced up, meeting his gaze. He then glanced past him, towards Vilkas.

"You say that the man she fought… he might die?" he asked, and Vilkas nodded.

"She hit him, and the poison entered his system, but normal cure poisons haven't helped heal him; they're just keeping the poison from spreading."

Thrynn didn't look as though he knew what to say. He glanced back and forth between the two of them momentarily. "She… she tried to kill the Dragonborn? Really?" he finally asked, and it was Brynjolf's turn to nod.

"She admitted it to me, and then tried to kill me, too." He considered his words very carefully before continuing. "Thrynn, I think that… that she was extremely close to Mercer, and that closeness influenced her to do things she might not have done, had she not been mentored by him. Ziris wouldn't have been the way she was at the end, had it not been for Mercer."

Thrynn merely continued to gaze at him, and Brynjolf decided to continue, even though he wasn't sure if Thrynn was actually hearing him. "She would have never done that, not when we were younger, before she'd been mentored by him for very long. I think… I think his heartlessness was appealing to her, because of what she'd gone through, and after she was forced to kill him, that was too much for her to handle, and so she changed."

Thrynn's shoulders relaxed, slightly. "I know," he said, his voice low. "She would have never killed someone willingly, not before Mercer died." He closed his eyes. "She was too close to him. I should've helped her. I could've, but I didn't."

Brynjolf took a step towards him. "We both should've helped her, Thrynn," he said, and Thrynn glanced at him once more.

The two thieves gazed at one another for a long moment, and then Thrynn let out a breath and looked at Vilkas. "She called it Frost Venom," he said. "I don't know what was in it, or where the name came from, but… maybe that'll help."

Vilkas nodded. "Thank you." He looked at Brynjolf. "Both of you."

With that, he ducked past Thrynn out of the training room, leaving the two thieves alone. After a moment of silence, Brynjolf spoke: "Did you love her?"

Thrynn nodded. "She didn't love me, though."

"I don't think she was able to love," Brynjolf replied, quietly, and Thrynn nodded again.

"I wish I could've taught her how, but I don't think that's something anyone can do."

"I don't, either," Brynjolf agreed, and then he walked forward enough to be able to place his hand on Thrynn's shoulder. "I'm sure that her friendship with you was real. She cared about that, even if she didn't care about you in the same way you did her."

Thrynn smiled, thinly. "I guess that's better than nothing at all," he said, "but I'll never know for sure, will I?"

He turned and left the training room. Brynjolf remained where he was for a moment, and then he closed his eyes and hung his head.

He stayed like that for what felt like an extremely long time, but what was probably only a few minutes. Delvin broke the spell by entering the training room, looking for him.

"Bryn?" Brynjolf raised his head, and the Breton lifted an eyebrow. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." Brynjolf exhaled, then focused his attention on him. "What do you need?"

"What did the Companion want?" Delvin asked, frowning slightly, and Brynjolf shook his head.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," Delvin responded. "As far as I'm concerned, the Dragonborn killed our Guild Master, which means that we're at war with the Companions -"

"Delvin, no," Brynjolf said, shortly, and Delvin took a surprised step back.

"What?" he asked, blinking, and Brynjolf shook his head again, this time as a form of disagreement.

"We aren't at war with anyone," he said. "Ziris worked alone, and she was part of a plot to _kill_ someone. As far as I'm concerned, that removes her from the Guild Master position. She only made it worse when she tried to kill _me_."

Delvin gazed at him for a moment without speaking. "This is about the Dragonborn, isn't it? And your night together?" he finally asked, and Brynjolf rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Delvin, please do us both a favor, and don't even take it there," he said, slowly. "This has nothing to do with that whatsoever. Ziris committed treason, by attempting to kill her second-in-command. When Karliah had supposedly done the same thing, we chased her to the ends of Skyrim."

"That was different," Delvin said. "We'd all thought that she'd killed our Guild Master. Ziris _was_ our Guild Master."

Brynjolf couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you actually trying to excuse what she did? I would've died, Delvin, had it not been for the Dragonborn and her companions. Ziris would've seen me dead, rather than simply dismiss me from the Guild. What does that say about her?"

Delvin merely gazed at him for a moment, and then he snorted and turned to leave the training room. Brynjolf let him go, not knowing what more there was to say. Delvin wasn't willing to listen, and Brynjolf didn't blame him; he'd been close to Ziris, too.

The redheaded thief let out a heavy exhalation and settled down on the floor, his back against the wall. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, now. Most of the Guild seemed to want him to be the Guild Master, but he didn't _want_ to be Guild Master.

Then again, if anyone else were to become Guild Master, they might end up wanting to do something to hurt the Companions, since it also seemed like most of the Guild was blaming them for Ziris's death. He needed to be in charge, to avoid something like that happening.

He placed his head in his hands and closed his eyes. A very bad headache was beginning to develop right in the center of his forehead.

"Bryn?"

He lifted his head found that Rune had entered the room. He was gazing down at him, looking worried.

Brynjolf forced a smile. "Do you need something?"

"I just wanted to talk to you, about the Guild Master thing." Rune made himself comfortable on the floor in front of him, and crossed his legs. "I really don't think anyone else deserves to be Guild Master as much as you do."

"Rune -"

"I mean it. Vex and Delvin are great, but… they're not leaders, Bryn." Rune shook his head. "You're the only one that can actually _lead_."

"But I can't," Brynjolf said, "because I don't want to. It doesn't suit me. I can't sit behind a desk all day. I need to be out on jobs."

Rune glanced downwards. "Ziris went on jobs," he said, quietly.

Brynjolf didn't respond for a moment. When he did, it was with a change of subject. "I wouldn't be a good Guild Master," he said, "but I don't know what else there is to do."

"What do you mean?" Rune asked, looking up at him again.

"I mean that… I'm pretty sure everyone wants the Dragonborn dead, and I'm not entirely sure how to make sure we don't start a feud with the Companions without being in charge," Brynjolf explained, running a hand through his hair.

"That's the only reason you'd become Guild Master?" Rune questioned, sounding surprised, and Brynjolf shrugged.

"It's the only way I could foresee something like that not happening," he said. "Everyone else would agree to do whatever the rest of the Guild wants, even if it's wrong."

Rune was quiet for a time. Brynjolf glanced at him, waiting for a response. After a while, Rune let out a breath, and met his gaze.

"So… Ziris really did try to kill you?" he asked, and Brynjolf nodded.

"She hit me over the head with a rock until I was unconscious, and left me in the woods."

Rune flinched. "I'm sorry," he said. "If we'd known -"

"What did she say, when she came back?" Brynjolf asked, and Rune shook his head.

"Not much. She acted like she had no idea where you were, or what you were doing." He exhaled. "We didn't really know what to think. She _seemed_ normal enough, but -"

"She was good at hiding what she was actually feeling," Brynjolf concluded with a sigh. "I know, and I realized it too late."

"Well," Rune started after a moment of silence, "it's up to you, of course, but… I don't think any of us would be _mad_ if you become Guild Master. We respect you, Bryn, and that's really all a Guild Master needs in order to be a good leader."

He stood up, and walked out of the training room, leaving Brynjolf alone once more. He looked at the floor, eyebrows drawn in concentration, and thought.

* * *

 **Well, after accidentally deleting this document in the manager, and then having to spend thirty minutes recreating it, it is done.**

 **Please, please, go check out _A Crowd of Hundreds_ , over in _A Collection of Stories_ , and let me know what you think of it.**

 **Next time, we'll see if Thrynn's help on what the poison was will help save Hainin's life, or if everybody's favorite assassin is at a much larger risk than everyone thought.**


	29. The End - Poison

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Brynjolf will be okay, I think. In this timeline, anyway, he was destined to be the Guild Master, so... he should be able to handle it. And we'll learn Hainin's fate shortly, so be on your toes!**

 **Manu: Thank you. I tried to write the Guild the way I thought each person would react to Ziris's death, especially Delvin and Thrynn. Hopefully they all can come around, including Brynjolf. Everything should be able to come together in the end, for everyone.**

* * *

 **Sorry that this chapter is kind of late. I had a busy day on Friday, and then on Saturday, practically my whole family went to the Arizona Science Museum to see the Pompeii exhibit. It was very interesting, although my grandma and mom and aunts said that the one that was in Cincinnati was a lot bigger and better. Still, it was cool, to actually go to a museum and see something history related!**

* * *

 **The End: Poison**

* * *

"She called it _what_?" Babette asked, her eyebrows drawn.

"Frost Venom," Vilkas said again. "It makes sense, doesn't it? He's been shivering, according to Hafjorg."

"I've never heard of it," Babette said under her breath. "Are you sure it wasn't Frost _bite_ Venom?"

Vilkas shook his head. "Just Frost. Do you think that spider venom is a component?"

"It could be," Elgrim said. He glanced at Babette. "I've never heard of poisons being combined, but… perhaps that would explain why it isn't being extracted; it needs two separate extraction spells performed on it, because it is two poisons!"

"Do you really think that's it?" Cry had come over, and her eyes were bright as she looked at the alchemist. "Can you save him?"

"We might be able to," Elgrim said. "This is good, Companion," he went on the Vilkas, and then he turned to Babette. "We'll need to make a mixture that includes the counter for frostbite spider venom -"

"We don't know what the other half of it, is, if it's even a half," Babette said. "I don't want to start throwing mixtures into him without knowing for sure what else it's mixed with."

Elgrim exhaled. "What choice do we have?" he questioned, quietly, and Babette glanced down at the floor.

"I guess we don't have one," she muttered. "Could we at least try and extract just the venom, first? Perhaps that's all it is."

"Babette, we'd know if it was frostbite venom," Elgrim told her. "We'd recognize the symptoms. This is more severe than a poisoning by frostbite spider venom."

Babette fixed him with a look. "We need to try, at least. I won't do anything else before then."

Elgrim looked ready to argue, but he didn't attempt to. Instead, he merely nodded to her, and Babette nodded back. Elgrim headed towards where Hainin still lay on the bed, while Babette returned her gaze to the floor, her eyes narrowed in thought.

"Mother, we're going to attempt to extract frostbite venom from the lad," Elgrim said to Hafjorg, who nodded in agreement and grabbed one of Hainin's arms. Elgrim looked at Vilkas, who moved forward to take Hainin's other arm.

Elgrim moved into position at the side of the bed. He pressed his hands together for a moment, eyes closed. He then pulled them apart, a red light emanating from his palms. He pressed his palms to Hainin's injured shoulder.

Almost at once, Hainin gave a violent jerk, almost pulling his arm from Vilkas's grasp. Nazir's fists clenched, and Cry moved around the bed to his side to hold him back, in case he decided he needed to punch something.

"Hold him, please," Elgrim said, sounding rather calm. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"What's happening?" Vilkas asked him, tightening his hold on the Imperial's arm.

"I'm using a fire extraction on the venom, since its effects are to cause ice damage to a target," Elgrim explained. "We've attempted something similar before, and it didn't work -" He cut off as Hainin jerked again; this one was accompanied by a moan of pain.

"Maybe you should stop, Father," Hafjorg said, glancing at Elgrim.

The alchemist lifted his hands, and Hainin fell limply to the bed. Almost at once, Nazir broke away from Cry and hurried to the opposite side of the bed. He pulled down Hainin's shirt, and Vilkas's eyes went wide at the burn marks on the Listener's shoulder.

"What did you do?" Nazir growled, glaring at Elgrim.

The alchemist was frowning to himself. "Babette," he said, and the vampire walked over. He gestured to the burn marks. "What do you make of that?"

Babette frowned at the marks, and then looked at him. "Aversion to fire?"

"My thoughts exactly."

"Do you think that's -?"

"The other half?" Elgrim nodded, grimly. "I'd stake my life on it."

"What does that mean?" Vilkas asked, looking between the two of them. "If the poison is one half ice and one half fire, then…"

"Then there's no simple way of countering it, because he'll react violently to whatever counter we give him," Babette concluded for him, glancing up at Elgrim once more.

"What counters fire and ice?" he asked, mostly himself, and everyone was silent.

"A combination of both." They looked at Nazir, who'd been the one to speak. He looked pained. "If the only thing that can fight one is the other, then shouldn't a cure poison potion made of both fix him?"

Elgrim and Babette exchanged a glance. "The measurements would have to be exact," Babette finally said, "and without knowing the original measurements of the two poisons…"

"We'll have to try," Elgrim said. "It's the Imperial's only chance."

"We could kill him," Babette said, softly.

"Babette." She turned to Nazir, who shook his head. "You won't. You _couldn't_."

That seemed the startle her, because she blinked at him several times, before she dipped her head.

"All right," she said, "it's your decision." She turned back to Elgrim. "We need to start mixing."

"I should have everything here in the shop," he told her, and then he looked at Hafjorg, who nodded and shuffled off to the front of the store.

Vilkas moved over to Cry as Nazir walked away from her to be closer to Hainin. He slid an arm around her, and she hid her face in his neck.

"This is all my fault," she whispered to him. "If… if Hainin dies…"

"Shh," Vilkas soothed, tightening his grip on her. "Don't think like that. He's going to be fine."

"Vilkas…"

Before she could finish whatever she'd been about to say, however, Nazir let out a yell, and they both turned in his direction. Cry covered her mouth with her hand as her eyes settled on Hainin.

The Listener has gone a deathly pale, and there was a layer of sweat coating his forehead. The burn marks, still visible because his shirt hadn't been pulled up, were burning an angry red. His face was twisted into a grimace, and he was shivering, violently.

"Hainin," she started, moving away from Vilkas towards the bed. "Elgrim!"

"We're moving as quickly as we can!" the old man returned from where he and Babette were at the table. Babette was crushing something in a wooden bowl, while Elgrim added other ingredients to a pot that was heating over a small fire.

"Then move faster than that!" Cry shouted, and she washed the sweat from Hainin's face with a damp rag. "Hainin, listen to me. It's Cry, and we're all here with you. You need to hang on."

Nazir was gripping the Listener's hand tightly in both of his, his own face twisted in a grimace. Cry looked at him in confusion, and the Redguard panted, "He's burning up!"

Cry pressed the back of her hand to Hainin's forehead, and hissed. "His face is cold as ice," she said, looking at Vilkas, whose eyes were wide.

"Elgrim, we need that potion now!" he exclaimed.

"It's brewing!" the alchemist retorted, angrily. "We cannot speed up the process, so you'll kindly stop yelling at us!"

Cry looked across the bed to Nazir, who was watching her. His eyes narrowed when they met gazes.

"If I lose him…" He didn't complete the sentence, but Cry gathered the meaning well enough, and she returned her attention to Hainin's sweating face, wiping away more of it.

"Please, Hainin," she whispered, "stay with us."

Hainin responded with another body-jerking shiver, and she risked touching his face again. This time, his skin burned the tips of her fingers, and she yanked her hand away, closing her eyes tightly.

"We've got it!"

"Move!"

Cry was suddenly shoved out of the way as Elgrim and Babette moved to the bed, and Vilkas grabbed her arm gently, pulling her to him. They watched as Elgrim forced Hainin's mouth open, and then as Babette slowly, carefully, poured a small bit of purple potion into the Imperial's mouth.

There was a moment before Hainin went still, but he did. After another moment, there was a change of expression on Nazir's face.

"He's cooling down," he said, and then he tightened his grip on Hainin's hand.

"Give him a bit more, Babette," Elgrim suggested, and Babette nodded. She poured an even smaller amount of potion into Hainin's mouth, and then she backed away from the bed. Elgrim made sure the Listener swallowed the potion before doing the same. Cry waited, her heart pounding, for something to happen.

Several tense moments passed. Hainin's color slowly began to normalize, and he seemed to relax into the bed. After a time, he inhaled, his chest rising, and then exhaled, and it fell, steadily. Another moment, and his eyes were opening. He blinked up at Nazir, who was standing over him, and grinned slightly.

"Guess my mood swings got the better of me," he said, his voice hoarse, and Nazir let out a watery chuckle.

"I told you that you need to work on that," the Redguard said, and then he leaned down and kissed Hainin, soundly. "You stupid idiot. I love you," he murmured against his lips.

"Love you too, Red," Hainin whispered back.

Cry collapsed in relief back against Vilkas, who held her snugly to his chest, his eyes closed. Elgrim and Babette exchanged a pleased handshake.

"Good idea, adding that bit of fire salt," Elgrim said to her, and Babette shrugged nonchalantly.

"I thought your addition of crushed ice wraith teeth was great."

The two moved away from the bed, discussing their creation and the odd purple color. Cry approached it, meanwhile, bringing Vilkas with her. Hainin glanced up at her at their approach, and his grin widened.

"Did ya notice? I was saving your life, again," he said, "and I almost lost mine because of it. Seems like it's about time you did something for me."

Cry laughed weakly. "Whatever you need. You just have to tell me." She settled down on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. It was still a little cold, but not shockingly so. She squeezed it between hers and met his eyes. "Thank you, Hainin. So much."

"I thought you'd be mad at me," Hainin responded. "I know you don't really agree with killing."

"No, but it's what you do," Cry said, and Hainin winked at her.

"That's exactly it." He caught sight of Babette, and his eyes went wide. "What are you doing here?" he asked her, sounding surprised.

"Saving your life," she replied over her shoulder as she pushed ice wraith teeth back into a jar. "You're lucky Nazir is very persuasive."

Hainin smiled to himself, and looked up at Nazir. "She also likes me a little bit, right?" he whispered, and Nazir nodded in response. "Knew it."

"How do you feel?" Cry asked him, and Hainin adjusted a bit on the bed.

"Warm, but not in a bad way," he said, "but also kind of chilly."

"Well, that's not surprising, considering what you had inside of you." Elgrim approached the bed, holding several bottles of ingredients, and grinned at the Imperial. "Now I know how to counter a mixture of fire and ice poisons, so I should thank you."

"I… I guess you're welcome?" Hainin asked, looking up at Nazir in confusion. In a rather loud whisper, he asked, "Who's he?"

"This is Elgrim," Nazir told him, nodding to the alchemist. "He owns the apothecary in Riften, which is currently where you are."

"Oh." Hainin glanced around the room. "Interesting."

"Why?" Vilkas asked, and the Listener shrugged.

"I don't really know what happened after I killed Ziris, but I'm almost positive someone came and carried me off to the Temple of Mara," Hainin answered, frowning slightly.

"Then you weren't completely out of it, after all," Cry said, and Hainin glanced up at her. "Aela was the one to carry you to the Temple. When the priests and the court mage couldn't help you, she brought you here instead."

"Oh." Hainin's expression softened. "What was Aela doing in Riften?"

"I sent her after you as a backup plan," Vilkas explained, "and I suppose you're lucky I did."

"I'll have to thank her," Hainin said after a moment's thought. "Is she still here? Of course she is; everyone is probably here, because you're here." This was said to Cry, who smiled slightly in response, and nodded in agreement. "Yep."

Hainin had seemed to remind Vilkas of something, because the Companion's expression changed. He glanced at Cry, and nudged her with his shoulder. "I need to speak with you," he said, softly, and Cry frowned, but nodded in agreement.

"Wait, wait, speak about what?" Hainin asked as they started to leave the back room. "I want to hear!"

Vilkas looked at Nazir, and the Redguard started at the Companion's expression. Apparently, Vilkas knew about Nazir's assassination attempt, and he also knew who one of the other conspirators was.

Nazir glanced at Hainin, who was frowning as he gazed up at him. "What?" he asked, and Nazir let out a breath, before looking at Vilkas and Cry once more.

"You can tell him," he said, quietly. "He'll find out eventually."

"Tell me what?" Hainin demanded, glancing between him and the two Companions. "What are you talking about?"

"So they were the one who hired you?" Vilkas asked Nazir, who nodded in agreement.

"We met when I came to Jorrvaskr while looking for Hainin last year," the Redguard explained. "Later on, they contacted me again, with the plan."

"Who contacted you? What plan?" Hainin shuffled on the bed, doing whatever he could to get their attention. "Tell me!"

Nazir looked at Cry, who let out a breath and returned to the bedside. "Nazir was going to try to kill me while we were in Solitude," she told Hainin, quietly. "He didn't, obviously, and the only reason he even considered it was because they threatened you, too, and the Brotherhood."

Hainin looked confused. He slowly shook his head. "No, that can't - that isn't true." He looked up at Nazir. "Right? It's not true?"

Nazir had his eyes closed. "It's true," he said, softly. "I… I didn't want anything to happen to you, so I… I planned to kill her right before the final Moot decision, but… I couldn't do it, because I knew that you'd never forgive me if you'd found out it was me." He opened his eyes and met Hainin's. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, and I didn't, in the end. The only reason I even considered it was because they told me they would do something to you, and I couldn't… I can't lose you, Hainin."

The Listener didn't say anything for a long moment. Everyone waited, silently, for him to speak. After a time, Elgrim cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should let the young men speak in private," he suggested.

Babette was the first one to scurry out of the back room, Elgrim quickly behind her. Hafjorg, who'd been peering into the room from the front of the shop, retreated back around the wall. Vilkas and Cry remained behind a few moments longer, glancing between the two assassins. Cry only moved when Vilkas gave her a nudge on the small of her back, and led her from the room.

There was still silence, even when Nazir and Hainin were alone. Nazir waited at the edge of the bed, not watching Hainin, but he could feel the Imperial's gaze on him.

After some time, Hainin inhaled, slightly, and Nazir risked glancing at him.

"I just… I appreciate that you _didn't_ kill her," he said, slowly, "but… I don't understand how you could even consider it, knowing how important she is to me, and to a lot of other people. Do you know how much pain you would've caused, had you gone through with it? I never would've been able to forgive you, and you would've lost me, anyhow."

"I know that now," Nazir said, his voice soft. "I… I regret ever thinking that killing her was even an option."

Hainin was silent again, and Nazir waited, not knowing what else there was to say.

"Red, you… you mean the world to me," Hainin began after some time, "and… it hurts that you would consider killing my best friend, because that's what she is." He glanced at the Redguard. "I can't help but feel like that might be another reason you considered it, because you were jealous."

Nazir didn't respond, and Hainin released a pained breath. "I knew it."

"It doesn't matter," Nazir started, "because I know it was stupid of me to ever feel that way. I had no reason to be jealous of Cry, because of multiple reasons, but the biggest one is the fact that I know that you… you…" He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase it, and bowed his head. "I know that you'd never pick someone over me, if that makes sense, and so I wasn't going to pick someone over you, and that's why I didn't kill her, because I weighed my choices, and I decided I'd rather protect you from wannabe assassins than lose you forever."

"But that's the problem, Red!" Hainin sighed in exasperation. "The fact that you'd think I'd ever leave you willingly is ridiculous. The fact that you'd think I'd let some idiots kill me without putting up a fight is ridiculous. I'd never leave you. That's what I was talking about when I said I was _in love_ with you."

Nazir didn't know what to say to that, and so he didn't say anything. He merely gazed at Hainin, who reached for his hand. Nazir allowed him to take it.

"I'm pissed at you," the Listener told him, quietly, "but that's also a part of being in love, because I'll get over it, eventually. You're incredibly lucky that you didn't actually kill her."

Nazir released a relieved breath. "I know," he agreed under his breath, "but I've never thought that I'm an idiot, so -"

"Oh, cut it out with that arrogant attitude of yours," Hainin said sternly. "That's my staple."

Nazir smiled, slightly, and leaned down when Hainin beckoned him to. The Listener pressed a kiss to his lips, and then whispered against them: "Who was it?"

Nazir pulled back. "Who was what?"

"Who was the one to talk to you about killing Cry?" Hainin elaborated, and Nazir exhaled.

"Her name is Ria," he said. "She's part of the Companions; from what she told me, she was in the Companions even before Cry was, but Cry was made a true Companion before her, and she didn't appreciate that, for lack of better words."

"Ah, so it was jealousy on her end, too?"

Nazir tilted his head as he settled down on the edge of the bed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Ziris wanted Cry dead because she was jealous of her," Hainin explained. "It sounds like Ria wanted her dead for the same reason."

"She told you that?"

"Well, no." Hainin rolled his eyes. "She ranted about how she hated love, how it made everyone weak. She said she was tired of how much love Cry has, but I think she was actually jealous that Cry has so much love, and that she's able to return it."

"I see." Nazir smiled slightly. "I assumed that was the case."

"Yeah, well… that's how it is, usually. Someone's jealous of someone else, wants what they have, or wants them dead. Maybe both, if they can manage it," Hainin said with a shrug. He then shivered. "Ooh, chills."

"That'll probably happen until you get rid of whatever poison is still inside you," Babette said as she walked into the room again, cradling a few things. "I told Cry and Vilkas to go to the Bee and Barb. You should join them, Nazir, when you can."

Nazir snorted, which told her exactly what he thought of that: if Hainin couldn't go, he wasn't going, either.

"Thank you for helping me, Babette," Hainin said, and that seemed to bring the vampire to a pause. "Really. I know I usually make jokes about this kind of thing, but I'm being genuine. I really appreciate it."

Babette was quiet for a moment, and then _she_ snorted. "You should thank Nazir," she said. "He was the one who came up with the counter-poison."

Hainin looked up at the Redguard, who shrugged one shoulder. "I wasn't about to lose you because no one could think of the obvious," he said, and Hainin grinned.

"I love you," he said, and Nazir smiled back.

"I know, and I love you, too."

Babette gagged, and the two of them laughed.

* * *

 **Well, Hainin's fine, and that's good! And he knows that Nazir was going to kill Cry way back in part one, but he didn't, and that's also good!**

 **Some foreshadowing in this chapter. We'll see if anyone catches it later on, when this whole thing is over.**

 **If you haven't already, go check out that new story I uploaded to _A Collection of Stories_. It could use some love. **

**Next time on _A Story's Conclusion: The End_ , Cry and Vilkas find out it was Ria the whole time, and they decide how best to handle this information. **


	30. The End - Making a Decision

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Thank you! I appreciate it a lot. I hope you like this chapter, too, and all the ones to follow it.**

* * *

 **You guys, I have one last week of classes, and then a week of finals, and then that's the end of my first year of college. How nuts is that?**

* * *

 **The End: Making a Decision**

* * *

Cry stared blankly down at the floor of the alchemy shop, not knowing what to think. Vilkas had just told her what Aela had done concerning the other conspirator, and she was unsure as to how she was supposed to react.

"Cry?" Vilkas prompted, gently, and she glanced upwards, inhaling.

"Did… did Aela mention who it was?" she asked him, and Vilkas shook his head. Cry exhaled and returned her gaze to the floor. "I suppose we'll find out when we return to Jorrvaskr."

"Do you wish Aela had killed them, whoever it was?" Vilkas questioned, and Cry hesitated a moment before shaking her head. "Are you positive?"

"Yes," Cry responded, softly. "I don't want anymore dead on my behalf, especially not someone who was part of the Companions. We knew them personally, Vilkas, and that… it _bothers_ me."

"How so?"

"I just…" Cry licked her lips, which felt very chapped, probably from the high winds that had chased them to Riften. "Whoever wanted me dead knew me," she said, trying again. "They lived in the same place I did, slept down the same hallway. Doesn't that… make you feel odd?"

"It makes me angry," Vilkas replied after a moment. "Because, if this person wanted you dead so badly, how did we not notice it? How could we have allowed someone like that to remain so close to you for so long? Who knows how long they planned on having you killed? For that entire length of time, they were under the same roof as us, and we had no idea. _I_ had no idea that a threat to you was so close by. And it…" He trailed off, closing his eyes, and Cry reached forward to take his hands.

"You did nothing wrong," she said to him. "If anything, _I_ should've been the one to guess that someone so near wanted me dead, and I didn't, because I assumed that I lived in a perfect world, a world where everyone was happy with me, and what I've done. I… I was naive, Vilkas, and it cost us." She glanced down at her stomach, and Vilkas caught this.

He immediately reached up and took her chin in his hand in order to tilt her face upwards. "Don't," he whispered. "Please… don't start blaming yourself for that again."

Cry closed her eyes and let out a breath before nodding in agreement. Vilkas pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're safe, now, and any child we might have is safe as well," he murmured to her. "I'll never let anything harm you again."

Cry turned her face so that it was pressed against his shoulder, and Vilkas hugged her close to him. "Never," he whispered again.

"I believe you," Cry said. "But you cannot protect me from everything, Vilkas."

"I can try," Vilkas decided, and Cry smiled against his shoulder.

"I'm glad Hainin is all right," she said, and Vilkas nodded in agreement. "Was Brynjolf the one to tell you what the poison was?"

"No, it was another thief, someone I gather must've been closer to Ziris than Brynjolf," he responded. "I don't know what his name is, but… he seemed very upset by Ziris's death, and also by what she'd done."

"No doubt he had her on a pedestal, as most of her thieves probably did," Cry said, pulling back to look up at him.

"Most likely," Vilkas said, "although… it may have been a different sort of pedestal." Cry lifted an eyebrow, and he tilted his head back and forth in response. "I think he may have been in love with her."

"Oh." Cry glanced downwards. "Well… I hope he knows that… she most likely didn't love him back."

"Why do you say that?" Vilkas asked her, and Cry shrugged one shoulder.

"Brynjolf told me he doesn't think Ziris was able to love."

Vilkas was quiet for a moment, and then he pulled her closer to him and pressed his face into her hair. "Well, then that just means she was jealous of you," he told her, "and perhaps that's why she wanted you dead."

"That's what Farkas said," Cry responded, and she closed her eyes. "I guess maybe he was right."

"Of course," Vilkas said. "That explains it all. She was jealous of you."

"You said the exact same thing, before," Cry told him, pulling back again to meet his eyes. "You said that you thought Ziris was maybe jealous of what I have."

"Maybe I was right," Vilkas said.

"You were." They both turned in the direction that Hainin's voice had come from, and found him standing there, supported by Nazir. He looked weak, but he was smiling, so Cry didn't immediately order him back to the bed. "Ziris told me that she wanted Cry dead because… I think her exact words were 'Her story's over', whatever that means."

"You should be laying down," Vilkas said, which meant Cry didn't need to, and Hainin rolled his eyes.

"I don't want to," he said. "I'm fine." He pushed away from Nazir a little, and managed to stand upright on his own. "See?"

Vilkas and Cry exchanged a glance, and then Cry rested her head against Vilkas's chest. Vilkas looked down at the top of her head.

"What is it?" he asked, softly, and she shook her head in response.

"I just… I feel like it should all be over, but… it isn't, and I don't know why."

Vilkas turned his attention to the two assassins, both of whom were frowning. He shrugged his shoulders, and tightened his grip on his wife.

"It's fine," he said to her. "It's taken care of. We can go home, now."

"But can we?" Cry lifted her head again and met his eyes. "I still don't feel safe, Vilkas, and I don't know why. The last thing I want is for there to be certainty that whoever it was won't come back, but… at the same time, I can't help but feel that we'll never actually be safe unless… they're gone."

Vilkas frowned at her. "Are you saying that you want them dead?"

"In less direct terms," Cry responded, quietly.

There was silence, and then Hainin huffed. "Well, I'm not going to kill this one, too," he said, and then he laughed. "Joking. If you want me to, I will, of course. That _is_ my job."

"No, I wouldn't ask that of you." Cry exhaled, and pulled away from Vilkas completely. She straightened her shoulders. "Besides, they were a Companion. They should receive a Companion's parting."

"Which means… what, exactly?" Hainin asked, and Nazir glanced at him.

"It means that Cry is going to kill them."

"Wait, no," Hainin said almost immediately.

"Yes," Cry responded, studying the wooden floorboards. "And it also means I'm doing this alone."

"Now I know you're kidding," Vilkas stated. "The last thing I'd do is send you anywhere on your own, let alone after one of your assassination plotters. No, wherever you go, I'm going."

"Vilkas, please." Cry blinked up at him. "This is my problem, and I want to solve it on my own."

"Cry, part of being married is knowing that every you problem is also a me problem," Vilkas informed her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. "You're not doing this alone."

Cry exhaled. "All right," she said quietly, and then she managed a smile for him. "I guess I can't argue with you on something this serious."

"You're right; you can't," Vilkas answered, grinning back, and Cry released a short chuckle before returning his hug.

Hainin nudged Nazir, who nodded in agreement. They were adorable.

After a moment, however, Hainin cleared his throat, and both turned to look at him. "I am feeling a bit lightheaded," he announced, "and I'd like to point out that if you are going after the last conspirator, then I'm coming with you, because I want to see this to the end."

"Hainin, no," Cry said almost immediately. "I don't want to drag you along any further. You've already gotten hurt, and almost _died_. I don't want that to happen again."

"Cry, you're going to need me, because I know that you and Vilkas won't be able to actually kill her," Hainin stated, frowning at her. "Your weird Companion connection thing will get in the way, which means you're going to need me to finish the job once we find her, and that's what I'm going to do."

 _Her_? Cry glanced at Vilkas, who shrugged in response to her questioning look. After a moment of silent discussion, Cry sighed to herself and turned back to Hainin.

"Fine," she said, "you can come."

"Then I'm coming, too," Nazir inserted immediately, and Cry nodded.

"That was a given, wasn't it?"

"Yes, of course, but I thought I should mention it, just in case you didn't realize that," Nazir answered, and the Dragonborn laughed again.

"It would be a fun trip, if we weren't planning on doing something dire," she said after a moment of thought, and that caused silence to fall between the four of them.

"We should probably go to the Bee and Barb," Vilkas finally said, "to tell the others that Hainin is going to be all right."

"That's a good idea," Cry agreed, and then she looked at the assassins. "The two of you should stay here, until Hainin is feeling a bit better."

"What if I don't want to stay here?" Hainin asked.

"You'll have to, because I only gave Aela enough money to get rooms for eight people," Vilkas responded, and Hainin nodded.

"Fair enough. You thought I'd be disabled a bit longer."

"I did," Vilkas confirmed, and then he nudged Cry towards the door that would take them outside. "We'll see the two of you later, once we figure out where exactly we're going and when?"

"Sounds good," Nazir said with a nod.

"Be careful," Hainin suggested, and Cry lifted an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Why would we need that warning?" she queried, and the Listener shrugged.

"Riften can be dangerous."

And with that, Vilkas and Cry exited the apothecary, into the dangerous open space of Riften.

As they headed up to the main level, Cry glanced at Vilkas. "Did you notice that Hainin said her, in reference to the conspirator?"

"I did," Vilkas answered, frowning to himself. "We'll need to talk to Aela."

* * *

Aela bolted upright as soon as there was a knock on the door of the room that she and Farkas were in, and she hurried over to open it. Cry stood on the other side, and she started when Aela opened the door.

"Gods, Aela," she said, placing a hand against her chest. "Please, calm down. Hainin is perfectly fine. He's awake, and he's walking around, and he's being just as smart as he always is."Aela did not relax, however, and Cry let out a breath. "Vilkas told me about the betrayer."

"What are you going to do?" Aela asked, aware of Farkas beginning to move in the room behind her, and Cry lifted her shoulders.

"I think we're going to go after _her_ ," she said, and Aela blinked, once.

"I think that's the best choice." She glanced over her shoulder, saw that Farkas was still laying down with his eyes closed, and then turned to face Cry again. " _She_ could come back. It's best to make sure that she can't."

"That's how I feel, too." Cry shook her head. "I just can't believe it. Of all people. I don't know what I ever did to her, but…"

"I don't think it's anything like that," Aela said, and Cry met her eyes. "I believe that she, like Ziris, is jealous of you, and what you have, and decided that she was tired of hearing about you wherever she went."

"I wish people wouldn't blame me for something that I was meant to do," Cry said after a moment of silence, and Aela nodded.

"I wish the same, Harbinger," she said, "but sometimes, a person allows jealousy and greed to overtake them, and they choose to do terrible things."

Cry was quiet, and then she nodded. "Yes," she said, "I suppose you're right." She leaned up on her toes in order to see over Aela's shoulder, and smiled to herself when she saw Farkas. "I'm glad he's getting some rest."

"Me too," Aela agreed. "He was exhausted."

"I can hear you," Farkas muttered from beneath his arm, which he'd flung over his face. "Could you not talk about me as though I'm not here?"

Cry chuckled, and she moved past Aela into the room in order to get to Farkas's bed. She sat down at the end of it, directly on top of his legs, and Farkas grunted slightly at the added weight.

"Ge'off," he grumbled, shifting beneath her.

"No," Cry answered, rather primly, and then she exhaled. "Were you dreaming?"

"Maybe, not that I need to tell you." Farkas rolled over, which forced Cry to stand, or fall off the bed. "Could I go back to sleep?"

"Go ahead," Cry said. "I'm sorry we woke you."

"I'm glad to hear that the assassin will be all right," Farkas said through a yawn, his eyes closed.

Cry smiled, and then she returned to where Aela still stood in the open doorway. "I'll let you two get back to sleep," she said, but Aela shook her head.

"I should go around the city, make sure there's nothing -"

"Aela." She cut off, and looked at Cry, who shook her head. "You don't need to do that. I think we'll be all right."

Aela let out a breath, and then she dipped her head. "All right," she said. "If you're sure."

Cry nodded. "I am." She then glanced over her shoulder before pushing Aela out of the room, and closing the door behind her. "Who was it?" she asked once they were alone.

Aela looked around the space they were standing in. After a moment, she turned back to Cry, and inhaled. "It was Ria."

Cry blinked at her. "Ria?" Aela nodded, and the Dragonborn let out a slow breath. "Well," she said after a moment. "I suppose if were to have been any of them, it would have been her, wouldn't it?" She turned her eyes to the floor and walked around Aela. "I just… what did I ever do to her, Aela? Or to Ziris?"

Aela shook her head. "I don't know, Harbinger, and I doubt any of us ever will."

Cry pressed her hand to her forehead, and sighed to herself. "It is too late to wonder, isn't it?" she finally asked. "One of them is dead, and the other will soon follow, if we manage to do this correctly."

"So, your mind is made up, then?" Aela questioned. "You are going to go after her?"

"I don't see any other choice," Cry replied tiredly. "I don't trust her not to come after me again."

"I suppose that's fair," Aela agreed after a moment. She then looked over her shoulder as one of the other doors opened, and watched as Vilkas came out of it. "He's going with you?"

"Of course," Cry said, lifting her head and smiling, slightly. "I wouldn't be going, otherwise."

"What are we talking about?" Vilkas asked, moving around Aela to stand with Cry.

"Aela told me who the conspirator was," Cry said, glancing up at him. She then leaned up on her toes to whisper it in his ear, mostly because the door to another room was opening, and Argis was coming out of it. Aela saw Vilkas's face go dark, and he looked ready to punch the wall, and probably would have, had Cry not been standing beside him.

"Where did you make her go?" he finally asked, directing the question to Aela.

"Morrowind," she said, and then she shrugged. "It seemed like a good place at the time. I have no idea if that is where she actually went, though."

"Only one way to find out," Vilkas said, and then he looked at Cry. "Will you be all right if I go down to the docks to find a ship that might be able to take us to Morrowind?"

Cry grinned at him. "Will I be all right, with my inn full of strong warriors, most of whom are paid to protect me?" She tilted her head back and forth. "I don't know…"

"I get it, I get it," Vilkas said with a roll of his eyes, and then he pulled her to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be right back."

"Argis!" The Nord immediately jogged over, and Cry nodded to Vilkas. "Go with Vilkas, please."

"Of course, my Thane," Argis replied, and Vilkas winked at her before heading towards the stairs, Argis following behind him.

"Where are we going, sir?" Argis inquired as they walked out of the Bee and Barb.

"To the docks. I need to ask about transportation to Morrowind," Vilkas explained.

"Morrowind?" Argis sounded confused. "Are we all going there?"

"No, just Cry and I, and the two assassins," Vilkas told him. "We have something to take care of there."

"Does that mean the rest of us will be going back to our other homes, soon?"

"Yes, I think it does, but you'll have to ask Cry," Vilkas said.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the docks, and once there, it took them several minutes before they found someone they could speak with.

"How much would you take to bring four people with you on your next trip to Morrowind?" Vilkas inquired of the captain of the first docked ship that they ran into.

"Nothing, considering I don't go that far north," the captain replied, not stopping his work of tossing sacks onto the dock. "You'll have to go to Windhelm for something like that."

Vilkas frowned. The last thing he wanted to do was travel back to Windhelm. It was either Riften, or they weren't going at all.

"I don't think you understand," he said to the captain. "I am willing to pay quite a lot of gold to be transported, along with three other people, to Morrowind."

The captain eyed him, pausing in his sack tossing. "And I don't think _you_ understand," he retorted, slowly. "I never travel that far north."

Vilkas sighed, and then he dropped a heavy sack of gold into the boat. The captain glanced down at it, and then back up at him. Vilkas nodded to it. "I am willing to pay _quite a lot of gold_ ," he repeated.

The captain snorted, and picked up the sack of gold. He opened it, and poked around at the money inside of it for a moment before turning a suspicious glare back up to Vilkas. "What do you want to go to Morrowind for, anyhow, especially at this time of year?" he asked.

"My companions and I are looking for someone," Vilkas responded, crossing his arms. "Someone we need to find quickly."

The captain poked through the coins for a moment longer, and then he sniffed. "I'll take you as far as Solstheim," he said, looking at Vilkas again. "After that, you're on your own. We leave at sunrise."

"Thank you," Vilkas said, smiling again. "We'll be here."

"You better be," the ship captain muttered, and then he shoved the coin purse into his pocket and went back to his sack tossing.

Vilkas gestured for Argis to follow him with his head as he turned back around and headed towards Riften again. Argis trotted after him, glancing back over his shoulder towards the boat.

"Who are you looking for?" he asked, facing forward again.

"Just… someone who we need to find, to make sure they don't come back to Skyrim," Vilkas replied without looking at him. "Don't worry about it."

Argis frowned to himself, but he didn't ask any more questions. They made it back to the Bee and Barb within a few minutes, and Vilkas immediately went back upstairs to tell Cry, while Argis settled down at the bar next to where Valdimar was drinking a mug of something.

Cry glanced up from whatever she was doing at the table in the corner of the second floor of the inn when Vilkas approached her. "Did you get a boat?"

He nodded. "It cost us quite a bit, and we'll only be going as far as Solstheim, but we have a boat."

Cry frowned at him. "Where's Solstheim?"

Vilkas lifted his shoulder. "I have no idea."

Cry shrugged after a moment, and then she returned her gaze to the thing on the table, which Vilkas noticed to be a book. "What's that?" he asked her, and Cry picked the book up.

"It's just something that I found in one of the rooms," she said, closing it. "I wasn't really reading it."

Vilkas took the book and flipped it so that he could see the cover. He smiled, slightly. " _Atlas of Dragons_." He looked at her. "You did good, you know? Teaching all the guards in all the cities how to fight dragons."

"It's not really good, if there's no one there to make sure they actually stay dead," Cry said, shrugging, "but at least they won't be able to burn down buildings and kill people."

"Which is a good start, if you ask me," Vilkas said, and he put the book back down on the table. "Come on, we need to go talk to Nazir and Hainin again." He started to turn and walk away, but Cry caught his hand, bringing him to a stop. He glanced back at her. "What is it?"

"Let's stay here for a while," she whispered, standing, and Vilkas frowned slightly.

"We need to tell them when the boat leaves," he said, slowly, and Cry nodded.

"I know, but we have time, don't we?" She started to pull him in the direction of the only room that none of the others had used, yet, and Vilkas let her.

* * *

 **Coolio.**

 **Next time, we'll see Cry as she talks to a few people, including everyone's favorite red haired thief.**

 **Again, I'd ask, if you haven't already, that you all go and check out _A Collection of Stories_ , and _A Crowd of Hundreds_ , and leave your reviews behind over there as well. I'd really appreciate it! 3**


	31. The End - Separation

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Nina: Thank you! Keep on reading for more sweetness in this chapter, too!**

* * *

 **This chapter is a bit shorter than all the other ones, and I apologize for that. It's one that wasn't going to be in the story, but then I decided that there were some loose ends that needed to be cut before the end, so I threw this in.**

 **Also, I'm still hurting over _Infinity War_ , so please bear with me. **

* * *

**The End: Separation**

* * *

Later on that evening, Cry met with her three housecarls outside of the inn. They all stood respectively in front of her, and she smiled to herself. She would never be able to repay any one of them for helping her as they had over the past weeks.

"First, I must thank you, for all you've done for me," she said. "None of you had to stay all this time, and yet you have, and I really, really appreciate it, from every single one of you." She exhaled a breath. "Now, however, comes the difficult part."

Immediately, all three of them looked at her, worried expressions on their faces, and she held up a hand. "I have really, truly appreciated everything you've done in my service as housecarls, but… I believe it's time for all three of you to be relieved of service. I will be sending a letter to the others as well, to tell them of this decision."

"My Thane," Gregor began, and she glanced at him, tilting her head to indicate that he should continue. "We are bound to you by our blades. That is not an oath easily broken."

"I know," Cry told him. "All eight of you have served faithfully. A thane could not have asked for better housecarls, nor could a warrior have asked for better shield-siblings." She paused, and inhaled, slowly. "But… I have mistreated you, all of you. I do not come visit the other holds nearly enough, and it is not fair of me to expect all of you to continue waiting for me to arrive, when it is likely that I won't." She dipped her head. "So, it makes the most sense, and is only right of me, to release you from your oaths, and allow you to do whatever else you wish to do."

"Don't you plan on being thane of all the holds, still?" Valdimar asked, and she nodded.

"Of course I do, but that is no excuse to keep you all bound in my houses, unable to do anything unless I tell you you can. You are all your own people, and I would not be a good thane if I did not realize that."

"But our job is to guard you with our lives, if necessary," Argis put in. "We can't just… not do that."

Cry smiled. "I appreciate that sentiment, Argis." She hesitated again, searching for the right words. "Does it really make sense for me to have you all working for me, when I almost never call you to service, however? I've done my duty as Dragonborn, and you all have done your duties as the Dragonborn's housecarls. It's time we all moved on."

The three men were silent for a long time. Finally, however, Argis bowed his head to her.

"It has been an honor to serve you, Cry Silverworthy," he said, quietly, "and if we are ever to meet again, know that my sword is always ready to fight for you."

"As is mine," Gregor added.

"And my axe," Valdimar finished. "And magic."

"Thank you," Cry whispered. "All three of you." She exhaled, and then bowed her own head. "I, Cry Silverworthy, as Thane of all Nine Holds, officially break the oath that has been sworn to me by these three men." She lifted her head again, and met each pair of eyes, briefly. "May they all find happiness in their lives, free from being oathbound."

After that, she watched as all three of them exited Riften, and she closed her eyes, briefly, knowing that she had done the right thing.

"What was that about?"

She jumped at the new voice, and turned to see Brynjolf was leaning against the wall of the inn, his arms crossed. She glared at him.

"You scared me!"

"Apologies," he said, moving out of the shadows. "You seemed a bit occupied, however, so I decided not to interrupt."

Cry huffed, and crossed her arms. "What's happened with the Guild?" she asked after a moment.

Brynjolf considered that. "Well," he began, "most of them want me as Guild Master, and most of them want to start a war with the Companions. Long story short, I'm going to become Guild Master in order to keep us from going to war with the Companions."

Cry managed a smile. "I'm sorry, Brynjolf," she said, and he lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

"Ah, it's not a big deal, lass. We'll just say that you owe me one," he said, grinning, and she rolled her eyes.

"Sure."

Silence passed between them, and then Cry glanced at him again. "You don't think you'll come to like the position, at least a little?"

Brynjolf sighed, and kicked at a stone that was on the ground. "I don't know," he said. "I just… I always assumed I was going to be the second-in-command, you know? Mercer Frey seemed immortal, and then Ziris even more so…" He shook his head. "I never expected to be given the opportunity to move up."

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve the title," Cry said, and he snorted. "I'm serious. You've been with the Guild for how long?"

"Since I was eight," he said.

"Well, there you go," Cry decided, crossing her arms. "You're probably one of the most experienced thieves in the place, everyone there respects you… what more does a leader need?"

Brynjolf smirked, slightly. "The will to do the job?" Cry studied him, and he lifted his shoulders again. "I've never wanted to be Guild Master, Cry. I was never on a quest for power." He smiled at her, and it was tired. "Really, I guess you could say I took the job for you."

"That's not the only reason," she said, quietly. "The last thing either of our factions needs is a war with one another. You did this for the Guild, just as much as you did it for me, and you know it, too."

Brynjolf was silent for a moment, and then he let out a quiet sigh. "Maybe," he said, and then he gestured over his shoulder. "How's Hainin?"

"He'll be fine," Cry said, and her shoulders sagged. "Thankfully. I don't know what I would have done if he'd died. Died myself, probably, if Nazir had had any say in it."

"Those two care for one another, huh?" Brynjolf queried, and Cry glanced at him.

"They're in love with one another, Bryn."

"Huh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I can't tell that kind of thing." He hesitated a moment, and then he gestured again, in a different direction this time. "Can I show you something?"

Cry eyed him, wary. The last time they'd been alone in Riften, something she did not want happening ever again had. Now, she wanted it to happen again even _less_ so. "What?"

Brynjolf grinned. "Nothing bad, I promise," he said, and then he held out his hand. "Come on."

Cry hesitated a moment, and then she accepted his hand.

Brynjolf led her across Riften to the orphanage, where he gestured towards some loose masonry on the side of it. "Up you go."

Cry frowned. "You're kidding, right?"

"It's either you climb up yourself, or I toss you up there."

She sighed, but started up the side of the wall all the same. She reached the roof easier than she thought she would, and when she turned, she let out a soft gasp.

The sun had set, and that had brought out the moons and the stars. She didn't need to look at the sky to see them, however, for a mirror image was reflected in the lake, which she could see easily from the vantage point of the roof.

Brynjolf joined her, and settled down next to her, exhaling heavily. He leaned back on one of his arms, and smiled to himself.

"Riften's all I've ever known," he said after a few moments had passed. "I was stealing my bread by the time I was five, since my mother died, and my father didn't care I was alive." He pointed towards one of the docks. "I used to stand there, and sell things that I had stole."

"You can see almost the whole city from up here," Cry murmured, and Brynjolf nodded in agreement.

"It's definitely quite the view, and then there's the sky." They both raised their gazes towards it, and he let out a quiet chuckle. "Sometimes, I think about where I was, all those years ago, and where I am now, and wonder if my time on the streets has something to do with how much I've grown."

"I'm sure it has," Cry responded. "You probably learned a few skills that you were able to take with you to the Guild."

Brynjolf released another laugh, quicker this time. "Yeah," he said. "I bet I did."

Cry hesitated a moment, and then she said, "We're going to Morrowind."

"We are?" Brynjolf's smirk was evident in his tone. "I always knew you'd say you wanted to run away with me."

"Stop," Cry said, but she was smiling, too. "You know what I mean. We're going after the last conspirator. Aela found out who it was, and sent them away, but…"

"But you won't be able to feel safe unless they're dead," Brynjolf concluded when she faltered. "I understand that."

Cry looked at him. "We leave tomorrow, at dawn," she said, quietly, and Brynjolf glanced at her.

"Well," he began after a moment of silence, "I hope you can feel safe again."

She nodded, and then she glanced at the lake again. "This was beautiful, Bryn," she whispered at last. "Thank you, for showing it to me, but I should go."

She moved to climb off the roof, but Brynjolf took her hand before she could. Their eyes met, and then he said, softly, "I'll always be here." Cry smiled, slightly, and dipped her head. Brynjolf brought her hand to his lips, and kissed the back of it. "Be safe, Dragonborn," he said.

"You too, thief," she replied. He let her hand go, and she disappeared over the edge of the roof.

Brynjolf exhaled a breath, and returned his gaze to the sky. He sat where he was for a moment, thinking, and then he cursed himself, and scrambled for the edge of the roof. Something inside him, although he couldn't say for sure what it was, told him that there was something too final about those last words. He did not want that to be the last time he ever saw Cry, the last thing he had said to her. Not with the way he felt.

Thankfully, she had walked slow, moving at a pace that was one he could easily catch up to. In fact, she had paused on the bridge crossing over into the marketplace, and was leaning against the edge of it, looking at the water below. Brynjolf hesitated on the left side, not knowing what it was he wanted to say to her, or even what it was he wanted to do.

She, however, seemed to sense that he had approached, and she turned her head in his direction.

"Why couldn't you have made this easy?" she asked, smiling a little, and Brynjolf moved over to where she stood. She rotated around until she was leaning back against the edge of the bridge, and gazing at him. Brynjolf stepped in front of her. Cry lifted her eyes to meet his, and for a moment, they simply stared at one another. The sky was reflected in Cry's eyes, and something inside of Brynjolf broke in half.

Before he could stop himself, which was what he should have done, he took her face between his hands and kissed her, deeply. Cry was startled, he could sense that, but she did not pull away, at least, not immediately. In fact, it seemed to him that she leaned into the kiss, almost, at least, for a brief moment.

Immediately afterwards, however, she was pressing against his chest with her hand. Brynjolf pulled his lips off of hers, but did not move away. Instead, he lingered where he was for a moment, his forehead pressed to hers, both of them inhaling and exhaling rather unevenly.

"I'm sorry, Bryn," Cry finally murmured, when she had thought of something to say, "but I can't."

"I know," Brynjolf replied, softly, "which is why I had to."

She offered him a sad smile, and he returned it, before his eyes closed. His forehead left hers, and he pressed a kiss to it instead, a gentle one, probably one of the most gentle kisses Brynjolf had ever given in his life. Cry let out a small sigh, and Brynjolf opened his eyes again, to look down at her.

"Maybe in another life," she whispered, and he nodded in agreement, knowing what she meant without actually having to hear the full statement.

" _Definitely_ in another life," he said, and she blinked at him, before letting out a small laugh. "I will wait there for you, dragon."

Cry chuckled, with more feeling this time. "What makes you think you'll get there first?"

"Are you kidding? I'm a thief; my life is on the streets, where a blade is looking to slice my throat around every corner." He grinned at her. "I'm definitely going to die before you, what with your life of luxury."

"Luxury?" Cry snorted. "You don't know anything, thief." She placed a hand to his cheek, and cradled it for a moment. Brynjolf tilted his head, enjoying the sensation. "I will love you," she assured him, her voice gentle, "in some space, some time. I promise."

Brynjolf smiled, softer this time, and nodded in agreement. "I believe you," he said, and then he turned his head and kissed her palm, before reaching up and taking her hand in his. He kissed the back of it as well, and then let it go. "I'll wait as long as I need to."

Cry dipped her head. She turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Brynjolf alone on the bridge. He exhaled a breath, and looked up at the sky one last time, before he too turned, and headed back to the Guild. In this life, maybe not, but someday.

And maybe then, he would be able to return the love he knew she was capable of giving.

Cry returned to the Bee and Barb, and found that the main floor was deserted. Floorboards creaked overhead, however, and she smiled to herself as she listened to them. She knew that it was Vilkas, awake and waiting for her to return. She would need to explain what had happened to him, and that was fine. She could do that. She had nothing to hide.

She started up the stairs, hoping that the night ahead would be filled with restful sleep, considering what they had waiting for them in the days to follow.

* * *

 **Listen, I really like these two, but I like Cry and Vilkas, more.**

 **Btw, new Cry and Vilkas OTP tag: _You're the one I was meant to find_.  
**

 **That doesn't make sense now, but it will, in time.**

 **Next week on _A Story's Conclusion: The End_ , we find Cry, Vilkas, Hainin, and Nazir arriving in Solstheim as a leftover bit from the way this story was originally going to go. **


	32. The End - Solstheim

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: Oh, wow! I had no idea! Thank you so much for reading even though English isn't your first language. If there's anything I can do to help make it easier, let me know.**

 **Nina: You're incredibly sweet. Thank you!**

 **jfrost22792: Yeah, Vilkas isn't really the one who gets the most out of the the relationship, that's for sure. The fact that he sticks with it, though, is a pretty good testament of his character, I think.**

* * *

 **Welcome to the '** **what happens when you had a plot in mind, and then you came up with a better plot but you had some good writing in the original that you wanted to keep so that's what this is' chapter.**

* * *

 **The End: Solstheim**

* * *

"This is Solstheim."

Cry approached the railing of the ship as it approached the lonely dock stretching over the gray water. She frowned slightly as she examined what she could see of the small village on the coast, before she turned and looked at the captain.

"It's not much," she said, and he shrugged.

"If you're looking for someone who doesn't want to be found, they're likely to be here," he said. "No one knows about Solstheim, and so no one would be able to find anyone here." He glanced at Vilkas. "Perhaps this is where you will find your person."

"We hope so," Vilkas said, and then he climbed out of the ship, and reached down to help Cry out as well. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the captain said, scowling slightly as Hainin tripped over a bucket filled with freshwater, and spilled it across the deck as he tried to climb from the ship. The Imperial winced, and glanced apologetically at the captain as Nazir helped him out of the ship the rest of the way. "Don't ever ask me for another trip again."

Vilkas rolled his eyes skyward, and led Cry away from the docks towards the village, Nazir and Hainin following behind. As they walked, Cry glanced around, and smiled, slightly. Vilkas noticed.

"What's that for?" he asked, and Cry shrugged.

"I just never thought I'd come back here, to Morrowind, I mean," she replied, watching a pair of dark elf guards saunter past. "It's just… strange."

Hainin picked up his pace a bit, until he was walking on her other side. "So you never came here, then?" he asked, and Cry shook her head. "Huh. So… none of us know what this place is about?"

"No, but it shouldn't take too long to find out," Vilkas said, looking around at the small square that they had just entered. Dark elves milled about, pausing at one open air shopping stand or another. They all looked tired, and none of them seemed willing to speak with one another for an extended period of time.

Cry seemed to notice this, as well, because her smile had faded. "I don't… I don't know if I like the feel of this place," she finally said, reaching up to rub at her arm. "It… it doesn't feel healthy. I don't know if that's the right word."

"No, I think that's a good one," Nazir said, joining them as well. He was frowning. "None of these elves look right."

They all stood together for a moment, simply gazing around at their new place of residence. Hainin moved closer to Nazir, and leaned against him.

"Let's find Ria and get out of here," he said, looking at Cry and Vilkas, who exchanged a glance before Vilkas nodded.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," he said, and then he started to walk away from them towards the closest building, the other three following behind him.

Their first few weeks in Solstheim seemed to creep by incredibly slow. After the first three days, Hainin declared that he could not live in the same inn room as Cry for another moment, and he went out in search of a new place for them to stay that had more than one living space.

As was Hainin's way, he returned to the inn with the key to an empty house near the docks, grinning widely. They'd moved out of the inn within an hour.

That, however, had been the only victory for the four of them. Although Vilkas and Nazir had done their best to find any record of Ria being in Solstheim, they hadn't been able to turn anything up, which, obviously, made them all feel a little uncertain. How were they supposed to find her if they were not finding even a bit of proof that she had been in Solstheim at all?

To make matters worse, Cry had been ill for the past two weeks. It was completely random, but at least twice a day, she'd have to run to a chamber pot and vomit into it. Vilkas was worried about her, but he was more focused on finding Ria, and so Cry began to feel neglected.

It didn't help, either, that Vilkas rarely let her leave the house, because she was sick. "If you go out, you might get even worse," was his excuse every time he or one of the assassins went somewhere, and Cry attempted to go with them. "You should stay here and rest."

Cry, not seeing any way to argue, although she wanted to, was submitted to staying inside at all times, with barely anything to do.

As the end of their first month in Solstheim approached, Hainin was the only one who seemed to be enjoying himself.

"I don't mind the dark elves," he said to Nazir over supper one evening. "I think they're fascinated by the four of us, and you, especially."

Nazir, who'd only been growing more and more frustrated with each passing day, offered Hainin a dark scowl. "Why? Is it because I'm dark-skinned?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Well, n-no, I just… I think it's because they've never… never seen a Redguard before…" When Nazir's expression did not change, and Cry offered Hainin a look that suggested he should stop, he did so, focusing his gaze on his food, and not speaking another word for the rest of the meal.

Vilkas seemed to be taking their lack of results the worse. He was awake for all hours of the night, searching through all the records that they'd been able to gather from different shops and the inn on Solstheim, searching for something, anything, that could point them towards Ria. Either she'd used a different name, or she had never actually arrived at Solstheim, however, because she was nowhere to be found.

That did not stop Vilkas from searching, however. He poured over the record books again and again, certain he had missed something each time he looked, something that would give them a reason to stay and see their plan through. As the days passed, however, and Cry still did not start to feel better, he began to lack anything resembling determination.

Cry, who was growing tired of being sick constantly, decided to take matters into her own hands, since her husband seemed to be too busy to give her any consideration.

Early one morning, after Vilkas and Nazir had gone out again to search for even more establishments to borrow records from, and Hainin had disappeared to Gods knew where, she exited the house and headed for the place known only as the 'Temple', which was where, she hoped, she'd find a priest or a healer that could tell her what was wrong with her.

She poked her head into the building first, and glanced around before entering it fully. The door closed heavily behind her, and she stood awkwardly in front of it, not really sure of what she was supposed to do now. She'd been expecting an open space, bustling with different worshippers and priests. Instead, she'd found a small space, connected to what seemed to be a network of different rooms.

Instead of peeking into any of the rooms, she remained where she was, and spoke, cautiously. "Hello?"

After a moment, when no one appeared, she tried again, making her voice a bit clearer and louder, this time. "Hello? Is there anyone here? I need some help."

Finally, there was noise from further back in the Temple, and then a dark elf in a long robe appeared, looking flustered. He spotted her, and walked to where she was, straightening his robes and smoothing back his hair.

"Apologies, wanderer," he said, pausing in front of her. "We are dealing with an infestation of sorts deeper inside the Temple, and I've been trying to clear it out for the past three hours." He shook his head to himself, and then looked at her. "So, what is it you come seeking at the Temple?"

Cry was beginning to perk up. "An infestation? Is that something you could use some help with?" she asked, suddenly have a serious urge to do something, but the priest shook his head.

"Afraid not, my dear," he said. "It would be much too dangerous for someone in your condition."

And all at once, Cry's perkiness diminished. "My condition?" she asked, frowning.

* * *

Hainin was tired of Solstheim. He wanted to return to Skyrim. He also wanted to kill Ria, so that Cry and Vilkas had nothing left to worry about. There was so much Hainin wanted, but it did not seem that he was going to get any of it.

He returned to their house in Raven Rock (which he'd learned was the name of the town that they'd docked in), tired and ready for a long nap. As soon as he entered the building, however, he sensed there was something… odd going on.

He frowned to himself. "Cry? Cry, you're here, right?"

He walked through the upper floor of the house, searching for her, and found no sign. Starting to panic, he hurried down to the lower level, and approached the bedroom that Cry and Vilkas had been sharing, hoping with all his might that she was there.

"Cry?" Hainin poked his head around the door, and exhaled in relief when he saw that she was in the room. After a moment, however, he frowned again, noticing that she was seated on the floor at the foot of the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I'm with child."

Hainin blinked at her. "Stop."

"I'm with child," Cry said again.

"You're not."

"I am," she insisted, sighing.

"No," Hainin retorted, moving to settle down next to her.

"Yes." Cry shook her head. "I went to the Temple and spoke to the elder and he told me I was carrying a babe and that's why I've been sick the entire time we've been here."

" _No_ ," Hainin said again.

"Yes."

"Wow." Hainin wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. "How did Vilkas react?"

"He hasn't," Cry replied, leaning heavily against him. "I didn't go looking for him. I just came back here and sat, with a baby inside of me."

"You're not actually, though, are you?"

"I think I am," Cry said. "The elder seemed pretty sure." She sighed again. "I guess a combination of making love every night and trying extremely hard to conceive leads to a babe."

"A babe," Hainin repeated, rubbing her shoulder.

"Yes."

"You're going to be a mother."

"When the elder told me, I immediately started vomiting again," Cry said tiredly.

"Well, that is a symptom of what you have. A baby," Hainin told her, and Cry nodded glumly.

"I'm not ready to be a mother."

"Sure you are," Hainin said at once. "You're going to be a great mother!"

"No, no I'm not," Cry said with a shake of her head. "I have this image of me as a mother in my head, you know? Like, me, carrying a babe wrapped up in a blanket. And singing to it, and… and playing with it with whatever babies play with. And my hair's up, and I'm clean. Mothers are calm, and wise, and aren't in the middle of hunting down one of their assassination plotters. I am not calm, not wise, and I am most definitely in the middle of hunting down one of my assassination plotters." She pressed her hands to her face. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Cry, you don't have to have your hair up to be a mother," Hainin told her.

"Yes, I do! And a mother should know the names of baby toys."

"Are you talking about like dolls and things?"

"Yes! A doll! I forgot the word _doll_." Cry leaned her head back against the bed. "A mother should know the word _doll_. Mothers need to know all sorts of things, like what to do when a babe is crying, and how to feed it, and how to change its little undergarments when they get soiled. And I'll have to wash them! I've never done my own washing in my life! I used to wear clothes until I couldn't anymore because they were too filthy or torn, and then I'd just throw them away. I can't throw away baby undergarments! They need those!"

"I think they're called 'nappies', or something like that," Hainin inserted.

"One wrong step, Hainin, and I'll have ruined it. I still make mistakes. A mother can't make mistakes. A mother needs to be perfect, and I'm far from that!" Cry went on, either ignoring him or not hearing him.

"Cry, you don't need to be perfect," Hainin told her, taking her wrists in his hands in order to get her attention. "Everyone makes mistakes. Do you think that… I don't know, who's someone you admire?"

"Kodlak Whitemane," Cry answered, quietly.

"Right. Do you think Kodlak never made a mistake?" Hainin queried, and Cry shook her head. "No! Exactly! Nobody's perfect, not even mothers."

Cry exhaled so heavily some loose strands of hair on her forehead fluttered upwards. "I'm scared," she said quietly, and Hainin nodded in agreement.

"I know, but you can do this," he said. "You know why? Because you can do anything, and because you're not alone. _And_ because you've wanted a babe for so long. You're ready, I promise. And even if there's some things you're not exactly sure how to handle, yet, you have nine long months to figure them out."

"That's true."

"And you're already ahead of the rest of people who have babies, because you actually want yours," Hainin continued. "I've seen some of the couples in Whiterun that have kids, and let me tell you, they had absolutely no idea what they were getting into. Like Amren and his wife - you know who I'm talking about?"

Cry nodded. "Their daughter is very rude," she said.

"Right! And you know not to name your child something idiotic, like the blacksmith in Dawnstar. Did you know he and his wife named their son _Blade_?"

"Right, I know not to name children after inanimate objects," Cry agreed.

"So, you're set, basically," Hainin concluded, and he was relieved when Cry smiled at him.

"Thank you, Hainin," she said, and then she reached out and hugged him, tightly.

"That's what I'm here for," he said, hugging her back, then he pulled away and met her gaze. "And now you should probably tell Vilkas."

"Yes, I should," Cry replied. Hainin helped her to her feet, and she went an odd shade of green. "But first, I'm going to vomit again."

"Go ahead," Hainin offered, and then he slipped back out of the room.

Once he was upstairs in the main room of the house, he was unsurprised to find Nazir and Vilkas there, discussing something. They stopped when Hainin appeared at the top of the stairs, however, and Vilkas looked past him.

"Is Cry here?" he asked, and Hainin nodded.

"She'll be right up," he said. "Did you guys find out anything new?"

"Nope," Nazir answered, settling down in a chair with a sigh. "I honestly don't believe she ever even set foot here. There's no record of her, anywhere."

"Huh."

Cry came up the stairs a few moments later, looking paler than she had when Hainin had left her, but not necessarily in a bad way. She smiled weakly at all three of them, and then looked at Vilkas.

"I need to talk to you," she said.

"All right, about what?" he replied, his gaze fixed on a piece of parchment that he was reading.

"Vilkas," Cry said, and he glanced over at her.

"What is it?"

Cry exhaled. "I'm expecting a child."

Almost at once, the parchment fell from Vilkas's hands, and he was across the room to where she stood, carefully gripping her upper arms. "You are? Why didn't you tell me? What happened? Are you all right? Do you need water or anything like that? Are you hungry?"

He tried to lead her over to Nazir's chair, which he'd vacated as soon as Cry had spoken, but Cry pushed her husband away, gently.

"I'm all right, Vilkas," she said, smiling slightly. "It's barely a month along. That's what the elder at the Temple told me."

Vilkas gazed down at her, as though doing an examination of his own. After a moment, he crouched down before her and placed a hand on her belly. Cry let out a breath. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm feeling," Vilkas answered. After a moment, he looked up at her. "I don't feel anything."

"No, of course not," Cry said, pulling him back to his feet. "The baby's this big." She held up two fingers, separated by only a tiny amount of space, and Vilkas blinked.

"Really?"

"Really," Cry told him. "It has eight more months to grow, though, so don't worry about that."

Vilkas's face broke out into a grin, and he wrapped his arms around her before kissing her soundly. Cry returned the kiss wholeheartedly, giggling through it. When he pulled away, he gazed lovingly at her for a moment, and then his eyes went wide.

"You're carrying a babe, but we're not home!" he exclaimed. "We need to return to Skyrim before it's no longer safe for you to travel."

Cry nodded. "I know," she said. "I've been thinking about it, about Ria, and how she's still out there, and the possibility of her coming after me again."

"And?"

"And… our baby is more important than anything," Cry said, "so if it's better that I'm at home in Skyrim, then so be it."

Vilkas looked relieved. "I'm glad I don't have to try to convince you," he said, and he kissed her again.

Hainin, who'd been standing quietly beside Nazir throughout this, lifted his hand, tentatively. "I could stay here and find her," he said.

"What?" Cry asked, and at the same time Nazir said, "No!"

Haining glanced between the two of them, and then he focused on Cry. "I will. If you want her dead, then I'll make sure it happens, you know I will."

"Hainin, I don't want to ask that of you," Cry told him. "I didn't even want you coming with us in the first place, remember? You have a life away from all this; I'd like you to go back to it, and let me deal with my problems on my own."

"Cry, having friends means that you don't have to deal with your problems on your own," Hainin said. He reached out and took Nazir's hand. "But if you don't want me to stay, I won't."

"I don't want you to stay," Cry said, firmly. "I want you to go back to Dawnstar and be the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, and get ready to come visit me during my last two weeks of this." She placed her hand on her belly, smiling.

"All right, then that's what's going to happen," Hainin agreed, setting his shoulders. He looked at Nazir. "You see? Nothing to worry about."

Nazir didn't look convinced, but he didn't bring up why until they were alone later on that evening, in their own room. He eyed Hainin as the Imperial finished up with his two hundredth brush stroke through his hair and set the comb down before speaking up.

"You're going to try to find Ria before we leave, aren't you?"

Hainin met his gaze in the looking glass that was over the dresser. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you're you, and you have to finish everything that you begin, no matter how ridiculous it is," Nazir replied. He moved across the room to where Hainin stood, and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. "And you're also an extremely loyal friend, who would rather die than leave a threat to Cry alive."

Hainin let out a quiet chuckle. "You know me too well," he said, softly, and then he turned his head and kissed Nazir. "And you're right," he went on, "I'm going to try and find her before we leave. If I can't, so be it."

"Now you're only making things up," Nazir said with a tired sigh. "Hainin, I know you don't plan on going anywhere until Ria is dead."

Hainin turned around fully and took Nazir's hands. "Listen to me," he began, carefully. "I wouldn't, normally, but I've been ignoring you and what you want ever since Cry was shot by that arrow at the wedding. It's time for me to focus on you again, to focus on the Brotherhood. I'd never do anything that purposefully put Cry in danger, but I wouldn't do anything that would make you resent me even more than you do now."

Nazir gazed at him for a moment, and then he let out a breath. "I don't resent you, Hay," he said, quietly. "I just don't exactly understand you."

Hainin grinned, and Nazir wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, pressing his face into his shoulder. Hainin returned the hug, squeezing just a bit. "I promise," he started, "that if I don't have any idea of where she is by when we're set to leave, I won't stay here to go after her."

"All right," Nazir murmured in response. "I believe you."

Hainin exhaled, and hugged Nazir tighter. "Nothing comes before you anymore," he said. "I swear it."

Nazir smiled slightly against Hainin's shoulder, and the Listener could feel it. He leaned his head against the Redguard's, closing his eyes.

Downstairs, in their own room, Cry and Vilkas were already in bed. Cry lay on her back, propped up against a pillow, while Vilkas lay on his stomach, his head propped up in one hand while the other stroked her bare belly, a dreamy smile on his face.

Cry watched him for a moment, grinning to herself, and she giggled when Vilkas's hand touched a more ticklish spot. Vilkas raised an eyebrow at the noise, and glanced at her. He then moved his hand back to where it had been, and Cry let out another short laugh as it skimmed over the spot.

Smirking, Vilkas wriggled forward until he could reach the spot with his mouth, and he place his lips against it in a gentle kiss. Cry shook with laughter as he relentlessly kissed the ticklish area, until she could take it no more.

"V-Vilkas, please!" she managed through gasps of breath between giggles. "I c-can't breathe!"

Vilkas laughed himself, but relented, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Cry relaxed back against her pillow, panting and frowning at him, no longer amused.

"That was mean of you," she scolded, pulling her tunic down over her belly again. "No more."

Vilkas smiled. "I'm sorry," he apologized, although he didn't sound it. Cry huffed and rolled over onto her side, placing a hand on the lower part of her belly as it churned unhappily from her movement. She frowned down at it.

"I am not sleeping on my back for you," she said to the babe inside of her.

"It can't hear us yet, can it?" Vilkas asked, and Cry glanced back at him to see he'd relaxed onto his side, facing her. She shrugged the shoulder she wasn't lying on.

"I don't know," she said. "Probably not, since it really isn't even a _baby_ , yet." She rubbed her belly. "Still."

Vilkas scooted close enough that he could wrap his arms around her, and gently pulled her back into his chest. Cry let out a content sigh as she relaxed against him, waving her hand near the candle on the bedside table in order to put out the flame. When the room was shrouded in darkness, it didn't take the two of them long to fall asleep, both with thoughts of home and happy babies in their minds.

* * *

 **Oh, and Cry's pregnant, so that's exciting!**

 **Let's have some fun; chime in in the review section with your answer to this question:**

 **Is the baby going to be a boy or a girl?**

 **Next time, we see what happens when Cry and Vilkas return to Jorrvaskr after being gone for so long.**

 **Gonna plug _A Crowd of Hundreds_ again, too, just for the heck of it. Check it out over in _A Collection of Stories_. **


	33. The End - Taking a Stand

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Yikes, I'm sorry, folks! I fixed it, thought. _This_ is the right chapter. **

* * *

**Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: I agree! They are cuties!**

 **Manu: Definitely. You have the right way of it, I think. I wouldn't say that Cry's feeling stifled by her marriage to Vilkas, nor does she love him any less; it's mostly a matter of feeling bad for Brynjolf, who's suffered from things having to do with Cry almost as often as Vilkas has. She wishes that there was a way for her to repay _him_ , just as she repays Vilkas. **

**Nina: _Twins_? Oh, lord, I hope not! Vilkas and Cry are brave, but I don't think they can handle two pups running around Jorrvaskr! Also, yes, _Infinity War_ was rough, and I agree, Vilkas is much better for Cry than Brynjolf.**

* * *

 **The End: Taking a Stand**

* * *

Hainin did not figure out where Ria was. By the time that they departed from Solstheim, he had decided that it was unlikely she'd ever been there, and he said as much to Cry. In response, she'd shrugged from where she stood at the railing of the ship that they were on, gazing over over the waves, one hand on her belly.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I don't think she'll be back to Skyrim, so as long as she stays away -"

"But what if she doesn't?" Hainin asked nervously, moving to stand beside her. He didn't like ships, and being so close to the edge made him feel sick, so he didn't look at the water, and instead focused on her. "If she does come back…"

"Hainin." Cry offered him a placating look. "I'd rather not think about it right now. Good thoughts only, all right?"

Hainin glanced down at her belly, and then back up at her. He sighed. "All right," he said, quietly. "Sorry."

That was the last they talked about it, but Hainin didn't stop thinking about it. When they reached Windhelm, and the party decided to separate so that Nazir and Hainin could head straight back to the Sanctuary, he took Cry's arm in his hand before she could climb into the wagon that Vilkas had rented, and pulled her off to the side.

"I'll see you in about eight months, I guess," he said, and Cry nodded, smiling.

"I hope so. I'd like you to be there; he's going to need to meet his Uncle Hainin, after all."

Hainin perked up for the first time in two days. "Uncle Hainin?" he asked, looking at her hopefully, and Cry laughed.

"Of course," she replied, reaching out and hugging him, tightly. "Thank you for everything, Hainin. I'll never be able to repay you, as long as I live."

Hainin shrugged awkwardly as he hugged her back. "Then how about you don't worry about it?" he suggested, and Cry smiled against his chest before pulling out of the hug.

"All right," she agreed, and then she leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Safe travels, Hainin."

"You too," Hainin responded as Nazir walked over to them. Cry nodded to him, grinning, and then she turned and went back to the wagon, where Vilkas waited for her. Hainin and Nazir remained where they were in front of the Windhelm stables until their wagon disappeared from view, and then Hainin leaned against Nazir with a heavy exhalation.

"What is it?" Nazir asked, frowning as he wrapped his arm around him.

"I just… I wish we could've seen it through," Hainin replied tiredly, and then he straightened up. "Let's go home."

Nazir nodded in agreement, and the two of them started to walk away from the stables, in the direction of Dawnstar and their family.

* * *

"Aela hasn't come back yet?" Cry asked, frowning at she looked between the newer Circle members.

Athis was the first to shake his head. "Neither has Farkas."

Cry looked worriedly at Vilkas, who was reading through a letter that Jorrvaskr had received a day prior. He held it up. "They decided to travel to Solitude, make sure everything was all right with Jordis and that group," he explained. "Farkas left Aela in Falkreath with Rayya. He should be home soon."

Cry relaxed, a little. "Well, that was good of them," she said. "A little… uncalled for, but good." She placed a hand to her forehead as a wave of dizziness overcame her. "Ooh, I need to sit down."

Immediately, Vilkas put a chair behind her, and Cry sank down into it with a sigh, holding her head between her hands. The rest of the Companions exchanged glances, and then Njada looked at the two of them.

"What's going on?" she asked, and Vilkas glanced at her as he handed Cry a cup of water.

"Cry's carrying a babe," he said, and immediately, the three of them erupted into excited conversation, talking over one another and each trying to be helpful. Cry raised her head and gave Vilkas an amused look. He responded with a shake of his own before turning back to the others.

"Listen!" he said over their chatter, and they fell silent. "This just means that you all are going to have to work extra hard, since Cry and I won't be leaving Jorrvaskr very much for the next few months. Does anyone have any problems with that?"

"No, sir!"

"We'll do whatever we need to."

"A babe! I can't believe it."

Vilkas nodded. "Good." He then looked at Cry. "Do you want to go downstairs?"

"No, I'm fine here," she said, taking a small drink of the water that he had gotten for her. "Besides, we need to tell them what we've been doing for the last couple of months, don't you think?"

Vilkas exhaled. "I suppose so." He looked at the Companions, and started the tale with the royal wedding. The three of them listened, wide eyed and captivated, as he explained that there had been conspirators coming after Cry since then, and that they'd spent the last few months away from home because it wasn't safe. He told them that one of the conspirators was dead, and he hesitated before continuing on.

"Vilkas." He glanced at Cry, and she nodded towards them. "They deserve to know."

"To know what?" Torvar asked, looking between the two of them.

Vilkas sighed outwards, and then he returned his gaze to the them. "Ria was the other conspirator," he said, quietly. "We went looking for her, but we couldn't find her. We're hoping that she doesn't come back, since she knows that we know, but if she does…"

"Then we kill her." Njada's eyes had gone dark with hatred. "What a bitch."

"Language," Cry said, softly, and Njada ducked her head.

"Apologies, but she is one," she muttered.

Cry smiled, slightly. "You're right," she said, "but we're going to minimize the cursing around the babe, all right?"

Njada nodded in agreement, and then she lifted her gaze. "But we are free to kill the bi - _Ria_ , right? If she comes back?"

Cry looked up at Vilkas, who nodded. "It's been decided by the senior members of the Circle that she is too dangerous if left alive, and so if she is spotted anywhere inside of Skyrim's borders, we will kill her." He glanced between the three of them. "Of course, if anyone has any reason that we shouldn't -"

They all immediately shook their heads, and he smiled. "All right, thank you."

After that, everyone settled down for the evening. Cry retired to her bedchamber early, and stayed up in bed reading until Vilkas came downstairs several hours later. She looked over the top of her book as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"I don't know how other women do this more than once," she said, and Vilkas smiled as he started to change his clothing. "Honestly, this may be even worse than the time I was almost killed by that Hagraven and Briarheart in Markarth."

"Still feeling sick?" Vilkas guessed, and Cry sighed, setting her book on the bedside table.

"Not if I'm laying down, but how am I supposed to exercise like the elder suggested if I can't stand for more than five minutes without feeling like I'm going to vomit?"

"I'm sure this won't last much longer," Vilkas said. "We can go speak with Danica tomorrow if you'd like, however."

Cry sniffed, moving further beneath the blanket. "I'll think about it," she mumbled.

Vilkas finished changing his clothes, and then he moved over to slide into bed beside her, leaning over to blow out the candle on the bedside table. He then wrapped his arms around her, and Cry relaxed.

"Could you tell me a story?"

Vilkas chuckled, nosing his face into her hair. "A story?" he asked, and Cry nodded eagerly.

"Just until you're too tired to keep going. I don't feel like sleeping, yet."

Vilkas sighed to himself. "I suppose so," he said, and then he was silent for a moment. "All right, did I ever tell you about the time Farkas and I went after a sabre cat near Riften?"

"Probably," Cry said, snuggling closer to him, "but you can tell it again."

"Maybe you should tell me a story," Vilkas suggested, and Cry sighed to herself.

"Fine," she said, and then she thought about it for a moment. "I'll tell you about Sovngarde."

Vilkas hummed. "I'd rather hear about it when I'm not sleepy," he said, and Cry frowned to herself in the darkness.

"Too bad." He chuckled again, and she considered it. "Well, you know that I had to fly on Odahviing's back to get to the place where the portal was."

"Mhm."

"Well, that place was full of draugr, and all of them seemed to be able to Shout in some manner or another. Let me tell you, it took me at least an hour to fight my way to the portal, and once I got there, I had to fight a draugr that was called a Dragon Priest. I'd never heard of one of them before."

"Hm. And was that difficult?"

" _Very_. My Gods, Vilkas, you have no idea! He had a staff that cast lightning down on wherever he pointed it, and that was the scariest part. I had to keep running, and I couldn't really get close enough to hit him with my sword, so I just ended up Shouting fire at him until he died."

"Good for you."

"Thank you. So, then, once he was dead, I had to take his staff and put it back in the place he'd gotten it from to open the portal to Sovngarde, and then when I jumped through it, it felt like I fell through a thousand skies. I don't really know how to describe it other than that, but it was interesting, although not something I'd want to experience again."

"And what happened once you were there?"

"Well, not much, considering I couldn't see anything. Alduin had shrouded the whole place with some type of thick fog. There were souls wandering all over, lost and confused." Cry hesitated. "Kodlak was one of them."

Vilkas shifted behind her. "Did you speak with him?"

"Sort of. He didn't really understand what I was staying, because he was so confused." She closed her eyes. "I don't know if he made it to Shor's Hall, because I left as soon as I was done fighting Alduin, but… I imagine he did, because there was nothing stopping him once the dragon was dead."

"I'm sure he got there," Vilkas said, and then Cry heard him yawn. She smiled to herself.

"You're tired."

"I am," Vilkas admitted.

"You should get some rest."

"I don't want to leave you bored."

"I'll be fine," Cry promised, turning enough so that she could place a kiss on his cheek. "Sleep, my love. I'm sure I'll follow soon after."

"If you're sure," Vilkas said, and then he shifted behind her once again, and let out a breath. Soon after, Cry felt his breathing steady, and he was asleep, snoring softly into her ear.

Cry grinned to herself, and shimmied away from him slightly, so that she wouldn't have his snoring directly next to her head. She rolled onto her back and gazed through the darkness up at the ceiling.

As she lay there, listening to Vilkas snore, her stomach began to hurt in _that_ way, and she groaned, placing her hands on top of it.

"This is a lot of work," she whispered to herself, and then she forced herself into a sitting position and moved over to where the chamberpot sat in the corner of the room, crouching down next to it. It took her a few minutes to vomit, and once she had, she leaned back against the wall with her eyes closed, wishing that this part would end already.

Once she'd gathered back enough strength to stand, she did so, taking the chamberpot with her. She didn't want the room to start smelling like her bile, and so she was going to take it upstairs and clean it out outside. She started to leave the bedchamber, but she hesitated before going through the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a dagger glint from where it rested on the table at the foot of the bed, and she wavered for a moment before going over to it and picking the weapon up to take it with her outside.

She carefully walked up the stairs to the mead hall, finding it darkened. Tilma must have finished her cleaning early, and retired to bed already. That was all right; the less people who saw her carrying a chamberpot full of her vomit, the better.

Cry pushed her way outside after retrieving a jug of water from the mead hall table, and walked to the overlook. She set the dagger down on the stone at her feet and dumped the vomit out of the pot over the wall, and then filled the pot with water and dumped that as well.

She brought the pot up close so that she could examine it, and then she filled it with a bit more water, just to rinse it further. As she was dumping that over the wall, there was a fairly familiar noise of boots against stone from behind her.

Cry went stiff, but she didn't turn around, in case whoever it was noticed that she'd heard them. Carefully, she bent down, as though she were picking up the jug, but instead she retrieved her dagger, and then she quickly turned and threw the chamberpot at whoever was behind her.

There was a grunt, and Cry held up the dagger as Ria reached up to rub at her forehead, which was where the chamberpot had hit her.

"What are you doing here?" Cry hissed, and Ria focused her attention on her.

"I came back to finish what I started," she said dryly. She had a dagger of her own in one hand, and it glimmered dangerously in the starlight. "Too bad Aela didn't come home before you did; I've been hiding in Whiterun ever since she found out it was me."

"Ria, I don't know what I ever did you make you want me dead, but I'm sorry," Cry told her. "We can forget about this; you won't be able to rejoin the Companions, but at least you won't be dead."

Ria let out a humorless laugh. "Does it look like I care about that, at this point?" She held out her arms. "Look at me, _Harbinger_ , and tell me what you see."

Cry examined her. She didn't look good, she had to admit. Her hair was a mess, filled with twigs and dirty, hanging limp around her face. She had dark bags under her eyes, and her face was sallow in color. She was jittery, too, Cry noticed; her hands shook, and there was a twitch in her cheek. It was clear that Ria had lost her mind.

That just made Cry feel even worse.

"You don't really want me dead, do you?" she asked, carefully. "Ria, you need help, and we can get that for you, if you let us."

Ria shook her head. "No, I want you dead," she said. "I don't want to hear about you anymore. I don't want to hear about all the things you've accomplished anymore. It's disgusting, how people worship you like you're a Divine. I'm tired of it."

"Don't you think that, if you were to kill me, people would only just talk about me more?" Cry questioned, starting to move away from the overlook. Ria followed, however, keeping Cry back against the wall with no way around.

"I don't care what people do once you're dead, because I won't be alive for much longer afterwards, anyhow," Ria said with a shrug. "I doubt your little pets will let me live. They'll go to the ends of the world to kill me, and that will be a fun way to spend my time, leading them one place when I'm actually somewhere else." She grinned manically. "I _love_ wasting people's time."

Cry tightened her grip on the dagger as Ria took a step towards her. "Now, Dragonborn," she said, raising her own, "what do you say we get this over with?"

"Ria, _please_ ," Cry whispered, pressing back against the wall. "I don't want to have to kill you."

"No, but you won't have to," Ria answered happily, and then she jumped forward.

" _Yol_!"

Cry winced as Ria began to shriek, moving backwards away from her again as she burned. She fell to the ground and desperately tried to roll herself around, but the fire seemed to refuse to go out. Ria screamed again, and Cry closed her eyes, turning away from her.

Ria continued to cry out in pain for several seconds, and then there was silence aside from the crackling of fire. Cry opened her eyes again, and glanced towards where Ria's body lay on the ground in front of her, blackened and still.

Her stomach jerked, and she quickly turned around and vomited over the wall. Since she had nothing left in her stomach, she gagged, and it burned dryly in her throat. Cry closed her eyes as tears began to form in them, a combination of pain and sorrow.

"Cry, what - oh Gods."

She heard Farkas behind her, and there was a moment before he was standing next to her, resting a gentle hand on her back while the other held back her hair. "Easy," he said, and she could hear a strain in his voice. "It's all right."

Cry began to sob, bowing her head, and Farkas hugged her against him. "It's all right," he repeated, his voice soft.

"Farkas, I - I did a bad thing," she managed, and he shushed her, holding her close.

"No," he said sternly. "You did the only thing you could."

Cry wished she could believe him, but she couldn't, and so she continued to sob against his chest, longing for none of this to have happened, for life to go back to the way it had been before the King's Moot. She wished she could take back the last five months, but she couldn't.

And she'd have to live with it.

* * *

 **So, that's that. Good. It took me a long time to decide who I wanted to have kill Ria, but in the end, I thought that Cry would be the best choice. Hope everyone agrees.**

 _ **God of War**_ **is interesting, but I really should have played the other games first.**

 **In the next chapter, we'll see the aftermath of Ria's death, and how the next several months of our characters' lives go. Should be interesting.**


	34. The End - Months

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Damn right.**

* * *

 **The End: Months**

* * *

They did not give Ria a proper burial. Even though she had been a Circle member, none of the others thought she was deserving of one, and so, on a sunny day a week after the night she'd attacked Cry, the four male Companions carried her out into the plains of Whiterun and tossed her into a hole that they had dug.

Cry was still numb from the events of that night. She'd killed people with her Shouts before, obviously, but it had never been someone that she knew personally. She knew that Ria would have killed her, had she not killed her first, but it… it still left an impression, and to have had killed in _that way_ …

Well, it was almost too much.

She remained downstairs in her living quarters for a week afterwards, refusing to see anyone aside from Vilkas, who she couldn't avoid, because he slept in the room with her. He sent away the three newest Circle members on many jobs, so that they wouldn't inquire after her more than necessary, and he did everything he could to assure her that she had done nothing wrong.

Cry believed him; she just couldn't believe that she'd actually done it.

Aela returned the week after, and, once Vilkas had told her what had happened, she disappeared again on a hunting trip. Vilkas guessed that she felt guilty, for not having returned to Jorrvaskr in time to realize that Ria was in Whiterun, and that she hadn't been able to take care of her before Cry and Vilkas had gotten home. Vilkas would've told her that she did nothing wrong, but she wasn't around to let him do so.

Farkas seemed unsure of what to do with himself. Cry would speak to him, sometimes, but not for any longer than a few minutes, and only if he didn't talk about what had happened. He still wasn't entirely sure of what _had_ happened; all he knew was what Cry had told Vilkas, and what he had seen that night when he'd returned to Jorrvaskr himself.

He also knew that Cry was carrying his niece or nephew, and that her staying inside so much, away from everybody, couldn't possibly be good for her or the babe. He also had a feeling that the babe was going to be a girl, but Cry told him no, that she _knew_ it was a boy.

Farkas disagreed, strongly, and so did Vilkas, who seemed positive that it was a girl as well. Cry, however, refused to even hear their reasoning.

"It's a _boy_ , and we're naming him _Kodlak_ ," she insisted every time one or the other brought it up, and then she'd go back to reading whatever book it was that she'd picked up, or roll back over and take another nap.

The two brothers began to worry when the third week began, and Cry still hadn't gone upstairs for anything more than some food, or to spend three minutes outside. When she went outside, she refused to go out into the training yard; instead, she'd step out front, stand there looking out over the Wind District without speaking, and then go inside again. It wasn't healthy, whatsoever, and they needed to do something about it.

So, Vilkas went into her bedchamber one afternoon when she hadn't come out of it at all, and confronted her.

"You need to get out," he said, sternly.

Cry, who was laying with her back to the door in bed, rolled over and looked at him through bleary eyes. "What?" she asked, yawning.

"You. Need to. Go. Outside," Vilkas stated, crossing his arms. "I'm not leaving until you get out of bed, and let me take you for a walk around Whiterun, at _least_. I'm not allowing you to lay down here moping any longer."

Cry actually grinned at him. "You're funny when you're angry," she said, and then she rolled back over. "I'm sleeping, Vilkas. Maybe we can go for a walk later."

Vilkas walked over to the bed and leaned over her. "No," he said, and Cry opened one eye in order to gaze up at him, her smile fading slightly when she saw his expression. "You're done doing this to yourself and to our baby. It's time for you to get up and start acting normal again. I know what happened with Ria was a lot for you to handle, especially in your current emotional state, but _this_ -" He gestured to the way she was lying in bed, on her side, burrowed under the blanket. "- is not good, and it needs to _stop_."

Cry had opened her other eye, and she was looking at him now, blinking and frowning. And, to Vilkas's horror, a tear appeared on her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she forced herself into a sitting position. "I know this isn't good for him, and I'm sorry." She folded, and put her hands over her face as she broke down into tears again. "I put myself first again, and I need to _stop doing that_."

"Cry, you have never once put yourself first," Vilkas told her, crouching down next to the bed so that he could take her wrists in his hands and pull her hers away from her face. She blinked tearfilled eyes at him, and he smiled at her. "But this was the one time that you really shouldn't have."

Cry nodded, and Vilkas straightened up again, bringing her up with him. "Come on," he said, gently. "Let's go outside."

Cry let him lead her out of the living quarters and through the mead hall. He avoided the training yard, not wanting anything to happen that would make Cry run back inside, and instead brought her outside in front of Jorrvaskr instead.

Cry wavered on her feet as he moved away a bit to let her stand on her own, but she regained her balance and then let out a breath, looking around.

"It's getting cold," she said after a moment, and Vilkas nodded.

"Hearthfire's fast approaching."

Cry looked at him in surprise. "Is it?" He nodded again, and she returned her gaze to Dragonsreach. "I had no idea that so much time had passed," she said.

Vilkas watched as she took a step forward, as though she were about to walk away from Jorrvaskr, but she hesitated. He moved forward and joined her, placing his arm around her.

"Let's walk," he suggested. "It'll be good for you."

Cry nodded in agreement, and Vilkas helped her down into the square of the Wind District. From there, they took a short walk through it and the Wind District, not speaking of much other than what they saw as they walked. Cry seemed to relax as they went along, and Vilkas breathed out a sigh of relief. It was going the way he'd hoped.

As they reached the Wind District again, Cry glanced towards the Temple of Kynareth. "Maybe we should go in there," she said, and Vilkas followed her gaze.

"Why's that?"

Cry shrugged. "Just to make sure everything's all right."

"Are you sure you want to?" Vilkas asked, and she shrugged again.

"Where else are we going to go for check-ups on the babe?"

She had a point, and so Vilkas led her across the square and into the Temple.

Danica was more than happy to help them with what they wanted. She performed a series of spells on Cry that would tell her about the status of the babe, spells that Vilkas hadn't even known existed. When it was all over, she said that the baby was doing fine, although Cry needed to start eating a bit healthier, and start exercising more, because it was slightly smaller than it should've been at this point.

After hearing this, Cry wanted to return immediately to Jorrvaskr and eat. Vilkas smiled in response, and agreed.

* * *

More months passed. Cry's belly continued to swell. Aela came home, and didn't leave immediately afterwards. Farkas was an impeccable housecarl and future uncle, never once leaving his friend's side, and always getting Cry whatever she requested. If Vilkas hadn't been doing the same thing, Cry would've joked that Farkas was being a better nervous future father than his twin.

Vilkas, however, was not slacking off in his own duties. He was attentive to Cry's wants and needs, and he always made sure that there was water closeby for her to drink, and that she was eating healthy at mealtimes, with Tilma's help. He kept a record of the baby's growth, depending on the size of Cry's belly, and the reports from Danica's examinations. At night, he spent several minutes simply leaning over Cry's stomach, rubbing it or cooing to it, and occasionally humming to it.

Cry, who was more amused by this than anything, often chuckled at him for it, and Vilkas responded by tickling her as punishment. It was a routine for them, nightly, as was an argument over what to name the child, once it was actually born.

"I'm not changing my mind," Cry said firmly, one night about six months in. Her belly had expanded outwards almost a finger's length, which Danica said was small, but not unusual. She lay on her back in bed, although her head was tilted so that she could still give Vilkas a serious look. "If it's a boy, I'm naming him Kodlak."

"I'm not asking you to change your mind," Vilkas sighed, "but I'd like you to at least consider the idea of it being a girl."

"I don't want a girl," Cry said, stubbornly, and Vilkas smiled.

"I know you don't, love, but the likelihood of one is just as high as the likelihood of a boy, so you need to be prepared."

"It isn't going to be a girl." Cry struggled to sit up, propping herself up on her elbows. Vilkas backed away from her belly, and leaned up on his knees. Cry blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and focused on him. "I've been eating a lot of apples."

Vilkas grinned. "And that means we're guaranteed a boy, then?" he asked, and Cry nodded.

"Exactly."

The two of them continued to stare at one another for a moment, until Cry's belly jumped, slightly, drawing both of their gazes down to it. After another moment, it jumped again, and Cry giggled. Vilkas, who had no idea what was going on, looked at her in surprise.

"What?" he asked, not understanding why she was laughing, and Cry placed a hand on her stomach as it jerked for a third time.

"I think he's hiccupping!"

She rolled over onto her side, still laughing, and placed both hands on her belly instead. "It's all right," she said to it through her giggles. "Calm down."

Vilkas crawled up the bed until he was laying behind her, and leaned over her in order to look at her belly. The two of them were silent as they watched it, waiting for it to jerk again. When it didn't, Cry relaxed and looked up at him.

"See? Just the hiccups." Vilkas was still lacking in color in his cheeks, and Cry couldn't help but laugh at him. "Vilkas, it's all right," she said. "Everyone gets the hiccups."

"Your entire stomach moved!" he exclaimed, and she rolled her eyes to herself, grinning.

"Well, yes, probably because he's inside there," she said.

"But -"

"Think about it, Vilkas. Hiccups can be very strong, and coming from someone so small, they're bound to cause some movement." Vilkas still looked uncomfortable, and Cry sighed to herself. "He's fine," she said.

"She," Vilkas said after a moment, and Cry whacked him. He laughed, and rolled over onto his back. Cry carefully turned onto her other side so that she could look at him, and he glanced at her. "When is Faisley going to arrive, again?"

"She said sometime next week in her letter," Cry answered, "but seeing how she's High Queen of Skyrim, that may be subject to change."

"Unlikely. If she has something in her schedule, there should be no change unless something major happens," Vilkas said, and Cry shrugged.

"I don't mind when she arrives, so long as she does." She offered Vilkas a look. "That being said, you need to do your best not to be mean to her, all right?"

"Me, be mean to your sister? Why would I do something like that?" Vilkas questioned, frowning.

"Faisley has a lot of opinions," Cry explained, "and so do you. Sometimes, especially when it comes to me and the babe, those opinions might conflict." She eyed him. "You must promise that you'll at least hear my sister out, when she offers an idea or a suggestion, all right?"

"Fine," Vilkas said after a moment's thought, "but my decision is final, right?"

"Of course," Cry answered, and she grinned at him. "I trust you, Vilkas. You'll make sure the babe is taken care of."

"And you too, of course," he added. Cry's smile softened.

"Yes, and me, too," she agreed.

Vilkas leaned up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Cry closed her eyes, and opened them again when Vilkas's lips left her skin. She watched as he leaned over in the other direction to blow out the candle on the bedside table. Before he did, however, she placed a hand on his shoulder. He glanced backwards at her, and she grinned, sheepishly.

"I need to relieve myself again," she said, and he let out a patient sigh before climbing out of bed to help her stand.

Cry once again realized that she'd never loved anyone more in her entire life, and never would.

Aside from the babe, maybe.

* * *

The start of the eighth month was a difficult one. Faisley's arrival had been delayed by several weeks, and so she didn't arrive until Cry was about to enter it, and, although Cry was handling it with as much as grace as the one carrying a babe could, Vilkas and Faisley were having a more difficult time.

Every time Cry complained about something, whether it be that her hands and feet hurt from swelling, or that she needed help lifting something, both Faisley and Vilkas wanted to be the ones to assist her. Whenever she mentioned that she was hungry, she found two different plates of food being thrust under her nose. And, whenever one of the other Companions said something that didn't mean any harm, but caused Cry to feel flustered and embarrassed all the same, both her sister and her husband were quick to offer her a reassuring word.

And it was starting to make Cry angry.

One afternoon, as she was sitting on the eating area in the training yard (she'd recently started going back there again, after Aela had assured her multiple times that there was no evidence whatsoever of what had occured leftover), she was struck with one of those fake pains that Danica had said she would get more frequently during this time period, and she let out a sharp gasp as she gripped at her abdomen.

Immediately, both Faisley and Vilkas were at her side.

"What is it?"

"Are you all right, love? Do you need to go to the Temple?"

"We're not taking her to the Temple."

"That isn't your decision to make."

Cry managed to even out her breathing again after coming up short for breath for several seconds, and she glared first at one, and then the other.

"I don't… need to go to the Temple," she said, panting slightly. "I'm perfectly fine. It was just one of those... practice pains."

Faisley was the first to back away, smirking in something similar to achievement. Vilkas only did so after another moment of studying Cry's expression, which she kept at a frown, in case he decided that something looked off, and wouldn't believe her when she told him otherwise.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and then he settled back down in the chair beside hers, crossing his arms over his chest.

Cry shook her head to herself and returned her attention to where Athis and Njada were currently sparring with Farkas, who was easily taking on both of them. Torvar stood nearby, ready to jump in if one or the other backed away.

"Has Danica mentioned that your stomach is still smaller than normal?" Faisley questioned after a few minutes of silence punctuated by grunting from the other Companions.

Cry shook her head. "She said that it's small, but that plenty of other mothers also have small bellies. She said that the size of it doesn't really have any input in how big the babe itself is." She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and Vilkas sprang to his feet at once.

"Do you want to walk around for a few minutes?" he asked, and, for the first time in several hours, Cry nodded as a response to his question.

"Help me up," she said, holding out her arms. Vilkas did so, and then supported her once she was standing. Together, the two of them started to walk around the edges of the training yard, Cry huffing as she waddled along next to him, and Vilkas walking at a slower pace in order not to exhaust her.

As they walked, Cry frowned to herself as she considered what Faisley had asked about. Vilkas noted her expression. "What is it?" he asked, and Cry glanced at him.

"Maybe the babe _is_ too small," she said, and Vilkas rolled his eyes upwards.

"Cry, don't listen to things like that," he said to her. "It's just your mind starting to make you worry about the outcome. Don't be; Danica says everything is progressing along the way it should."

"I know, I know." Cry exhaled, slowly. "I just can't help but think about it, that's all."

Vilkas leaned over and kissed her temple as he led her back over to the eating area. "It'll be all right," he said. "I promise."

"I think I want to go lay down for a while," she said as they approached where Faisley was still seated. At once, her sister rose.

"I'll take you downstairs, if you want," she said, and Cry glanced between her and Vilkas for a moment, before huffing outwards. The last thing she wanted to do right now was choose between the two of them, especially about something as trivial as who would accompany her downstairs.

Thankfully, she didn't have to, for Aela had just come out of Jorrvaskr herself, and Cry grinned in relief.

"Aela, would you mind taking me downstairs?"

The redhead glanced between Vilkas and Faisley for a moment before shaking her head, and stepping forward to help Cry into Jorrvaskr. Cry gave Vilkas a kiss before moving to Aela, who assisted her inside.

As they were nearing the stairs, there was a knock on the opposite door, and Cry exchanged a look with Aela before sighing to herself.

"We'd better get that," Cry said, and Aela nodded, turning them both around and helping Cry to the door instead.

Once they'd reached it, Cry leaned forward, and pulled it open, huffing from the exertion. What waited on the other side, however, was enough to bring a wide smile to her face.

Hainin held out his arms with a big grin. "Look at the glowing mother!" he exclaimed, and Cry left Aela's side in order to cling onto him with a tight hug.

Hainin laughed as a space was left between them because of her belly, and Cry let out a laugh, too, pulling out of the hug. She reached up to wipe away a happy tear, and looked at him.

"I'm really glad you're here," she said, and Hainin responded by leaning down and placing two hands on either side of her belly.

"Me too," he said, still grinning. "Look at this! My Gods!"

Cry responded by whacking him on the back of the head, although not hard. "Stop it," she said, giggling. "I know I'm a house; leave me alone."

"It's not so bad," Hainin said, tilting his head as he examined her bump. "It's actually kind of small." He glanced up at her. "Is that normal?"

"That's what the priestess says," Cry replied, and the assassin hummed.

"All right, I guess that means yes," he said, and he returned his gaze to her belly. "Wow. I can't believe there's another person inside of you."

"A very small person," Cry said, "but yes." She heard Aela clear her throat from behind her, and she tugged on a strand of Hainin's hair. "Come inside; we have so much to talk about."

Hainin willingly followed her into Jorrvaskr, and after he'd disposed of his knapsack in their guest room, he settled down at the mead hall table, looking at Cry as she lay down on the floor, exhaling slowly.

"Help me, Hainin," she whined. "Everything hurts, and my mood changes every three seconds. I don't know what to do anymore!"

Hainin was still grinning at her, more from amusement than anything. "How much longer?" he asked, and Cry shrugged.

"As much as a month, according to Faisley," she said, and then let out a groan, reaching up to cover her face. "That's so much time!"

Hainin chuckled. "Are you doing all right, though? Other than the obvious?"

Cry released a sigh, and lowered her hands, looking up at him. "I'm having trouble sleeping," she said, "because all I can think about when I try to go to bed is the worst possible outcomes for the birth." She shook her head to herself. "It also doesn't help that I can't seem to get comfortable no matter which position I'm laying or sitting in, and apparently, I'm not supposed to stand for too long, either, so I don't really know what I'm supposed to do."

Hainin shrugged his shoulders. "Just focus on the end result," he suggested. "You're going to have a baby! A combination of the best parts of you and Vilkas. Hopefully."

Cry laughed, and then she gazed up at the ceiling, grinning to herself. "Yeah," she said after a moment. "You're right. Once it's over, it will have all been worth it."

* * *

 **So, that's that. A rather large time jump because I have no idea how pregnancy works, and I wasn't going to do a shit ton of research for a FanFiction. Sorry 'bout that.**


	35. The End - Condition

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Manu: You have a point! Some people really don't want to be saved. And thank you; in the end I thought that Cry's actions were pretty much what would have been expected of her as the Dragonborn, and one of the main characters of this saga.**

 **Nina: Hi there! It's always awesome to read your reviews, because I can tell that you put a lot of thought into them, so that they're useful to me. I really appreciate it. I hope that you stick with me as we near the end of this wild ride, because I'm gonna need your input.**

* * *

 **The End: Condition**

* * *

One week.

There was just one week left, before Danica was certain that Cry would start feeling ready to have her baby, and the Dragonborn was relieved, because she didn't know how much longer she could carry this child around without losing her mind.

Everything hurt. She couldn't stand. She couldn't sit. She couldn't lay down. She couldn't relax. She couldn't stop thinking. No matter what she tried resulted in either more pain, or something else that caused her discomfort. And she was done with it all.

She was even starting to get angry more often with Hainin, whom, up until this point, had avoided her annoyance better than any of the others who were around her. Now, however, he seemed to be getting the worst of it, aside from Vilkas, whom was the one she blamed for her predicament, and not without reason.

"You should really do something about your hair," she muttered to Hainin one afternoon as she stared at him from across one of the tables in the mead hall. "It looks like a bird's nest."

Hainin, whose pride rested in how good his hair looked, immediately blanched and reached up to pat at his curls. "Really?" he asked, his voice meek, and Cry let out a breath, her frown fading.

"No," she said sadly. "I'm sorry, Hainin. I'm just being really mean to everyone. I thought you would have realized that by now." She covered her face with her hands. "I'm such a bad person!"

Hainin sighed to himself. He should've known she hadn't meant it, and now she was crying. In truth, he prefered the mean words. He reached across the table and took her wrists in a comforting manner.

"Hey, it's all right," he said in an effort to stop her from crying. "You're not trying to be the worst, so it isn't a problem. Everyone knows that you don't really mean what you've been telling them."

"But you did, for a second!" Cry wailed. "And I keep yelling at Vilkas as though he was the only one who decided that we wanted a baby, even though we both agreed to it! And Farkas is just trying to be nice to me, but I keep telling him to leave me alone, when I don't want him to! Faisley wants to be helpful, but I feel like she's trying to be _too_ helpful, and I keep telling her that, and it's mean of me! Hainin, this baby has made me a _mean person_."

Hainin stared at her as she continued to cry, not knowing what there was to say. He knew that he needed to try to reassure her that she wasn't actually a mean person, but he thought that if he tried, she'd only get angry at him again, and then matters would be worse.

He decided, right then and there, that he was glad that neither he nor Nazir could have children, because he could not imagine dealing with this for nine months, rather than just two weeks.

"Cry, listen," he said, softly, pulling both her hands away from her face, and taking them in his. Cry met his eyes, her own filled with tears, and he offered her a gentle smile. "You're not a mean person, all right? And the baby isn't making you one, either. You're just here, dealing with one of the most difficult things you'll ever deal with, and so your changes are understandable, and we all know that it won't last."

Cry blinked at him, a few stray tears making their way down her cheeks as she did so, and then she bowed her head, nodding. Hainin squeezed her hands. "Do you want to talk about anything else?" he asked her, and she glanced up again.

"I don't really…" She trailed off, let out a breath, then tried again. "I have something that I want to ask Vilkas, but I don't know how to do it without being mean, and I don't want to be mean."

"What is it?" Hainin queried. "I could ask him for you."

Cry glanced towards the main table, where the three Companions that Hainin didn't know so well sat, and then she looked at him again. "I don't really want them to be at Jorrvaskr, when it happens," she said, softly, and Hainin tilted his head.

"Why not?"

Cry shrugged. "It wouldn't… I sort of just want it to be those that are closest to me," she said, "which… sounds selfish, because those three live here, and they've been so kind, but… I don't know. I'd just feel better if they weren't here, and I don't really know why, which is why I don't want to talk to Vilkas about it, because he'll ask for a reason."

Hainin gazed at her for a moment, and then he smiled, and lifted her hands in order to place kisses on both of them. "I'll ask for you," he said, and Cry relaxed.

"Thank you, Hainin," she said, and then she grunted a bit. "Ouch. I need to stand up."

Hainin moved around the table to help her, and then he walked her around the mead hall before leaving her against the wall and heading outside, where Vilkas was currently discussing something with Farkas. Hainin lingered in the doorway as he waited for their conversation to be over.

When the two twins stopped speaking, and there was a few moment's pause before their next statements, he stepped forward, clearing his throat.

Vilkas glanced back at him. "What is it?" he asked, starting to look worried.

"Nothing bad, I promise," Hainin said immediately, holding up his hands. "Cry just sent me out here to make a request that she doesn't feel comfortable making herself."

Vilkas relaxed. "All right," he said. "What is it?"

"She said that she only wants the people closest to her here when she'd delivering," Hainin said. "I don't really know why, and she doesn't, either, but she said she'd feel more comfortable that way, and, if I'm not mistaken, that is the most important thing when giving birth, isn't it? The mother's comfort level?"

Vilkas was silent for a moment. "So, she doesn't want those three -" He nodded towards Jorrvaskr. "- here, when it gets to be time?"

Hainin nodded, and the Master at Arms exhaled a breath. "Then I suppose we'll have to find a job to send them on, that will keep them away for a few days." He frowned at Hainin. "Why didn't she just ask me that herself?"

"She said that you'd want a reason, and that she didn't have one to give you," Hainin replied. "And… she's been feeling a tad more self-conscious about her anger issues, lately."

"I see." Vilkas settled back against his chair, thinking to himself for a moment. "All right, I'll need to speak with her, then, won't I?"

"I would," Farkas mumbled, watching Aela as she sent another arrow into the target that she was using to practice.

"Farkas, perhaps you could talk to her," Vilkas suggested. "It might be easiest that way."

"Why would I talk to her?" Farkas questioned, glancing at him. "She's your wife."

"I know, and that's exactly why you should speak to her instead," Vilkas answered. "She's been placing the blame for her situation on me, and I think it's becoming difficult for her to confide in me, because she doesn't want to be mean to me while she does so."

"She's been mean to me, too," Farkas said, sighing to himself. "She says that I need to cut my hair."

"She said that to me, too!" Hainin exclaimed, and the two Companions glanced at him. He reached up and patted at his hair. "I can't cut my hair."

Farkas looked back at Vilkas, who offered him an expression that had just a hint of pleading, as well as a dose of order. So, with a grunt, he pushed himself up out of his chair and headed into Jorrvaskr.

He found Cry where Hainin had left her, although she'd recovered a book from somewhere and was reading it while standing. He hesitated a moment before approaching her, and as he did so, Cry glanced at him, and then back down at her book.

"Vilkas asked me to come talk to you," he said.

"Why's that?"

Farkas shrugged. "I really have no idea."

"Probably because he's scared to do it himself," Cry muttered, and then she winced, eyes closing. "Gods, I didn't mean that. I hate that I'm being so awful to everyone."

"So do the rest of us," Farkas said, and Cry offered him a small smile.

"I appreciate that you're straight forward with me," she said. "No one else seems willing to be."

"One of us has to do it." Farkas studied her for a moment, and then he said, "Are you worried?"

"About what?" Cry asked.

"About the babe. Faisley keeps saying that she thinks it's too small."

"It's always been Faisley's job to worry about me," Cry said. "I've sort of had some type of trouble all my life, even when I was a babe."

"What do you mean?" Farkas asked.

"When my mother was delivering me, she was at risk of some type of illness that could have killed us both," Cry explained. "Luckily, our priestess knew how to avoid it, and so the two of us survived. Faisley knows about that, and how dangerous it was. She probably thinks that I could suffer from the same thing."

Farkas furrowed his brows as she glanced down at the ground. "I suppose it's not unlikely," she said after a moment, "but… I don't think that it's going to happen. The universe wouldn't be so cruel to Vilkas." She glanced back up at Farkas again. "I need you to help him, Farkas. When I have this babe, I'm going to be busy with it, and Vilkas is going to be dealing with the Companions on his own. He's going to need you."

Farkas nodded. "And I'll be there for him, whatever he needs." He shrugged again. "I always have been."

Cry smiled again. "You're right," she agreed. "I don't even need to ask it of you, do I?" She set her book down on the table next to where they stood, and then reached up to hug him, tightly. Farkas hugged her back, around the waist, and Cry closed her eyes as she pressed her face into his shoulder. "Thank you, Farkas," she murmured to him.

"Of course," he replied. "Anything for you and Vilkas, always."

Cry backed away from him, and settled back down on the balls of her feet, grinning. "I guess I'd better go see him," she sighed, looking towards where the door to the training yard was opening. Aela came through it, instead of Vilkas, and noticed Farkas and Cry standing nearby. She walked over to them.

"What's going on?" she asked, and Cry shrugged her shoulders.

"Just friends having a talk," she said, and then she tilted her head. "Aela, I want you to know that I think Skjor may have gone to a good place."

Aela went pale. "What?"

Cry nodded. "I don't know where that good place is, but he couldn't have just disappeared, so I think he's somewhere, waiting for you. If you want to go to him, that is." She grinned. "I also think he fully supports whatever it is that you and Rayya have, as do I."

Aela's paleness darkened into a deep blush, and she ducked her head. "Th-thank you, Harbinger," she said, quietly. "I appreciate that."

Cry dipped her head in response, and then she moved around her two Companions and headed out onto the eating area in the training yard. Hainin was seated with Vilkas at one of the tables, telling him something that had to do with Nazir and a fire.

"So don't ever let Cry pick on you for the fire you started," he was finishing as Cry approached, "because Nazir sets them all the time."

Vilkas was smiling. "Thank you, Hainin, all though I would have felt a bit more reassured if you'd told me that _you_ set fires all the time."

"I'm speaking from the same position as Cry, and telling you about _my_ Vilkas," Hainin explained to him. "There's nothing wrong with an occasional fire."

"There is when your entire home is built inside of an old ship," Cry inserted, settling down at the table next to Hainin with a grunt.

Hainin let out a laugh. "She might have a point," he said. "I didn't even think about that." He looked at Jorrvaskr for a moment, and then shook his head at Vilkas. "All right, it's decided. You can't cook anymore, in case you set another fire and burn the whole place down."

Vilkas rolled his eyes in response, but he was grinning good naturedly. "Fair enough, I guess," he said, and then he pointed at Cry. "She's not allowed to make fun of me for it anymore, though."

Hainin looked at the Dragonborn. "Do you agree to that?"

"As long as he stays away from the cooking pit," Cry replied, smiling at Vilkas, who offered a nod in her direction.

"I'll stay away from the cooking pit."

"There we have it, then," Hainin said, throwing up his arms in a stretch. "I love being a mediator." He looked between the two of them, and then he stood up. "Now, however, I'm going to go take a nap, because _I_ was up all last night with you." He nudged Cry with his hand, and then he sauntered off into Jorrvaskr, leaving her alone with Vilkas.

The stared at one another for a moment, and then Cry bowed her head until her forehead rested on the table. "I'm sorry for what I've said to you these past few days," she started, quietly.

"You don't need to be," Vilkas said immediately. "It isn't your fault."

"No, but I could've tried thinking before I spoke," Cry answered, turning her head to the side and wincing as a pain went through her belly. "I just - I wish that I knew how to be better about certain things. I wish I was better able to control myself, before doing or saying something wrong."

Vilkas gazed at her, and then he reached across the table and took her hands. "Cry," he started, and she lifted her head in order to look at him. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "I have never known you not to think about your choice of words before you reached this point," he said. "I really don't think you have anything to worry about, in the long run."

"You have to say that," Cry sighed. "You're my husband, and you're supposed to tell me that there's nothing wrong with me, that I'm flawless."

Vilkas laughed. "Cry, believe me when I say that we both know that no one is flawless," he said. "I'm stubborn, and I have a hot temper. You're even more stubborn than I am, and sometimes you can care too much."

"How does someone care too much?" Cry asked, swallowing as yet another pain worked its way through her abdomen. She ended up squeezing Vilkas's hands as she fought through it, and then she met his eyes.

His were dark with concern. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Just… having some pain, that's all," Cry replied, shaking her head. "You don't mind that I want to send Torvar, Athis, and Njada away when I deliver, do you?"

"No, I don't mind at all," Vilkas said, still looking worried. "There's actually a job over in Markarth for them to take care of." He tilted his head at her. "Are you sure that you're all right?"

"Yes, I -" Cry cut off. Something inside of her had just popped, and now there was liquid running down her legs. Probably more quickly than she should have, she clambered to her feet, and gaped down at the pool of water that had formed on the ground.

She lifted her gaze to Vilkas, who looked startled. "Uh… I think the baby is coming," she said.

After that, everything seemed to go by in rapid motion. Vilkas hurried her into Jorrvaskr, shouting for someone to fetch Danica. Faisley appeared from somewhere, and the two of them helped her down into the living quarters and her bedchamber. There, she lay down on the bed and looked around as everyone started to panic, going through what they had been given to do.

Vilkas did not leave her side even for one moment. Farkas hurried around, making sure she had enough blankets and pillows, and that she was comfortable. Aela brought water and anything else that Cry said she wanted from upstairs. Faisley paced at the foot of the bed, studying her with furrowed brows, but she didn't say anything out loud.

After Danica had arrived, and given Cry a potion that lessened the amount of pain she was in, Cry reached for Vilkas, who immediately let her take his hand.

"What is it, love?" he asked.

"Send the three on their job," Cry murmured. She felt exhausted already, and barely a half-hour had passed since the start of it all. Danica had already assured her more hours were to come before anything remotely exciting started to happen. "I want them to go."

"All right," Vilkas said, and then he rose from the edge of the bed, waving his hand for Farkas and Aela to go with him.

Once the three of them were gone, Faisley approached the bedside, and Cry smiled wearily up at her. "I'm glad you're here," she said.

"How do you feel?" Faisley asked. Cry lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

"I'm tired, mostly, and it hurts, still, but not as bad. That potion was a big help."

Faisley frowned at her. "Sister, you know what you're at risk for, don't you?"

Cry sighed, relaxing back against her pillows. "Faisley…"

"I just… I'm worried about you," Faisley said. "I don't know if it's something that a mother can pass on to her daughter, but I remember how big Mama's belly was when she was carrying you." Faisley rested her hand on Cry's stomach, which was covered by the blanket. "It was about the same size."

"Faisley, I don't know what to tell you," Cry murmured, blinking up at her. "You know that if it happens, it happens. I don't want to worry Vilkas."

"That may be the only way to ensure you live," Faisley said, her voice soft. "Worrying Vilkas for a few hours will be worth your life, don't you think?"

Cry released another breath. "I'll be fine," she finally said, and then she closed her eyes.

Faisley blinked at her for a moment longer, and then she sighed to herself and exited the bedchamber. Hainin, who'd been lingering in the sitting room since he'd been woken from his nap by the commotion, looked at Faisley as she entered it.

"What's going on?" he asked, and Faisley shook her head to herself.

"My sister is being stubborn, as usual." She glanced over her shoulder into the bedchamber, and then looked at the assassin. "You know her rather well, don't you?"

Hainin smiled at the question. "I consider her to be one of my best friends," he said, "and I think she feels the same about me." He tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Perhaps you could talk some sense into her," Faisley suggested. "She doesn't seem to be willing to listen to me."

"What do you think is wrong?" Hainin questioned, and Faisley glanced downwards.

"Just… go in there, and tell her to think about what I've said, and how… how her decision might affect the babe," she said.

Hainin sighed to himself, and then he headed into the bedchamber.

As though his arrival had given her more energy, Cry straightened up in bed, and she grinned at him. "Finally coming in to see the beast?" she joked, and Hainin smiled, settling down at the edge of the bed himself.

"Faisley asked me to speak with you," he began, and Cry immediately lost her grin. She released a groan, and shifted uncomfortably beneath the blanket.

"I already told her -"

"She asked me to ask you to consider the babe," Hainin interrupted, and Cry blinked at him. "What is it that she talked to you about?"

"Just something ridiculous," Cry said under her breath, and then she met his gaze. "Hainin, it's… it's likely that what she's worried about may have some possibility to it. Just promise me you'll do your best to keep Vilkas clear-headed."

"Why wouldn't he be?" Hainin asked, starting to feel a bit worried himself, and Cry offered him another grin, weaker this time.

"No reason," she said, and then she reached for his hand. Hainin allowed her to take it, and she squeezed it. "Hainin, I'm very glad you're here," she said. "Thank you."

And Hainin smiled back at her, because how could he not? "Of course I'm here," he said. "I'll always be here for you, remember?"

Cry tugged on his hand, and he leaned down enough so that she could place a kiss on his cheek. "Of course," she agreed. "I can count on you for anything."

"Exactly," Hainin said, and then he kissed her cheek as well. "Rest easy, Dragonborn," he said, pulling back with a grin. "Everything will be fine."

She was quiet for a moment, and then she shook her head. "Hainin, I need you to promise me something," she said, quietly, and his grin faded, seeing how serious she looked.

"What is it?"

"No matter what happens," she began, quietly, "just... make sure they don't do anything that would risk the babe, all right?"

"What... what do you mean?" Hainin asked her, blinking. "Cry? What could put the babe in danger?"

She was silent, and then she shook her head. "If there's any talk of the babe not surviving, make sure that whatever that might be doesn't happen." She fixed him with her cat-like eyes, the look in them pleading. She squeezed his hand, tightly. "Promise me."

"A-all right," he said, wincing a little. "I promise."

Cry relaxed, as did the grip on his hand. She smiled at him again. "Thank you," she said, and then she turned her head the other direction, and closed her eyes.

Hainin watched her for a moment, brow furrowed. Something was wrong, he thought, but _what_?

* * *

 **What, indeed?**

 **I'm gonna say this now, before I forget, but after next week's chapter, there's gonna be an influx of one-shots showing up in _A Collection of Stories_ , so just keep an eye on that, so you don't miss any of them. They're all important to _this_ story, but didn't have a place here, so I wrote them to stick in _ACoS_ instead. **

**Just lettin' y'all know.**

 **Next time, _baby_. **


	36. The End - The Dragonborn

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Cry and Vilkas _are_ cute, and Hainin _is_ the absolute greatest.**

 **Manu: Nobody can wait for the baby. Thankfully, the wait is over.**

 **Nina: I guess we'll have to see.**

* * *

 **The End: The Dragonborn**

* * *

Vilkas ducked into the Harbinger's bedchamber, and looked around. Danica stood at the table at the end of the bed, wetting rags in a bowl of water. Cry was propped up in bed against two pillows, looking as though she wanted to break something. He went over to her and sat down beside her, reaching for her hand. She let him take it, gazing at him gratefully.

Vilkas started to say something, but Cry groaned in pain first, and grabbed at her swollen belly.

"I wish there was something I could do," he said, eyes darting over her face, taking in her color and the shine of sweat on her forehead.

Cry opened her eyes and managed a tired smile for him. "Just be here," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. She leaned her head back and rested it against the wall. "We can lay back and look at the stars."

Vilkas frowned, and rotated slightly to look at Danica. "Is she…?"

"She's perfectly fine," Danica assured, dunking another cloth into the bowl.

Vilkas returned his gaze to his wife, who was experiencing yet another pain.

The door to the bedchamber opened, revealing Faisley, with Farkas right behind her. The queen examined her sister for a moment before turning to Danica.

"Have you tested any of her urine?"

Danica raised an eyebrow. "Why would I do that, and waste a potion?"

"You know why," Faisley bit out. "She could suffer from delivery shock if we don't figure out what's actually wrong with her."

"Do it," Farkas insisted, looking Danica square in the eye.

"I'm sorry, my queen, but have you ever brought a babe into the world?" Danica inquired, ignoring Farkas entirely and keeping her gaze on Faisley.

Faisley crossed her arms. "No."

"Have you ever beared a child yourself?"

"No, I have not," Faisley replied, exasperated, "but I've seen -"

"I suggest you allow me to work based on my experience," Danica stated with finality, and then she turned back to her rag wetting.

Faisley scowled at her back, then turned to the bed and crossed the room to it. Cry looked up at her and frowned in confusion.

"Faisley? What are you doing here? Didn't we already attend the Moot?"

Faisley let out a breath. "We did," she said, and brushed some hair off of her forehead.

Cry tightened her grip on Vilkas's hand as another pain pushed through her, and she threw her head back with a yell. Farkas flinched, and hurried out of the room. Faisley released a breath, and looked at Vilkas.

"Vilkas…" she began, but he ignored her in favor of squeezing Cry's hand.

"It's all right," he murmured to her. As an aside to Faisley, he said, "If you're not going to help, then perhaps you should leave."

Faisley frowned at him, and then she rose from the bed and exited the bedchamber. She found Farkas pacing the hallway outside, where Aela and Hainin had waited, both hoping for good news.

Aela noticed Faisley's return first. "Well?" she asked, and Faisley shook her head.

"It's worse than I thought," she said. "The babe is too small, and my sister is confused. Her risk for delivery shock is growing greater with every passing minute the child remains inside of her."

"Wait, so, what is delivery shock, exactly?" Hainin asked, glancing between the two women.

"It's where, after the baby is delivered naturally, the mother can suffer from the abrupt change in her physical body, and it can result in convulsions." Faisley closed her eyes. "These convulsions can lead to brain damage, or even death."

"So what do we need to do in order to avoid that?" Hainin persisted.

"We'd need to remove the baby from her womb via an open wound below her naval," Faisley responded, letting out a sigh.

"How is it that you know all this?" Aela asked her, frowning slightly.

"My mother," Faisley said, looking at her, "when she was preparing to bear my sister. She was at risk for delivery shock, and my sister was cut out of her, instead of delivered naturally. Both of them survived because of it." Faisley glanced in the direction of the bedchamber Cry was in. "If I'm correct, my sister's chances of survival will increase significantly if Danica delivers the baby in the same manner that my sister was delivered in."

"But the babe?" Hainin asked, and Faisley let out a breath.

"There would be a higher risk of its death, but not so high that we need to fear anything, especially if the delivery is done correctly, and soon." She looked around at the three of them. "An immediate delivery is the only chance of avoiding delivery shock."

"It isn't our decision," Aela said after a moment. "We'd need to ask Vilkas."

"Who won't speak with me," Faisley concluded, and Farkas let out a grunt.

"He'll listen to me."

Without another word, he marched into the Harbinger's rooms. After a few moments, which felt like hours, he reappeared, Vilkas behind him.

Farkas gestured to him. "Explain it," he said to Faisley.

She did, and Vilkas gazed at her steadily as she spoke. When she was finished, he let out a breath.

"Could we do it here?" he asked. "The other method?"

"It'd be safer at the Temple," Faisley answered, regrettably.

Danica appeared, then. "Yes, and moving her now could only bring about worse results," she stated, stepping up next to Vilkas.

"You know that she's distressed, don't you?" Faisley pushed. "She isn't acting the way a normal mother does at this point."

"The Dragonborn is distressed, but she has also been suffering from the pains of childbirth for almost three hours," Danica said, shaking her head.

"Vilkas, time is running out," Faisley insisted, giving up on Danica and turning back to the Master at Arms. "We should've been at the Temple hours ago, when this first began. It would've been safer, and the babe would've been born already."

"If she delivers the child in the other method, do you swear you can save her? Save them both?" Vilkas asked, looking at her without blinking.

"My sister's chance of survival is much higher," Faisley said.

"But not guaranteed, whereas if we continue forward as planned, it is," Danica inserted, sounding annoyed. "Both her survival, and the child's."

"Faisley knows her sister, and she knows about this condition," Hainin put in when Vilkas didn't speak. "We should trust her."

"So you'd take Cry to the Temple?" Vilkas asked him.

"She would've been there three hours ago if it were my decision!" Hainin exclaimed.

From her bedchamber, Cry let out a wail of pain, and they all turned in that direction, eyes wide.

"Gods help us," Vilkas whispered, and then he ran into the room, Faisley and Danica behind him.

The three remaining in the hallways exchanged fearful glances, not knowing what to do. After some time, Vilkas returned, closing the doors to the Harbinger's sitting room behind him. He was pale, and Farkas moved forward to make sure he didn't collapse.

Aela exhaled. "No sense in standing around down here," she said. "We should go upstairs and wait."

Farkas helped Vilkas down the hall, while Hainin remained behind with Aela.

"What do you think?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"I don't know."

Hainin worried his lower lip between his teeth and followed her towards the stairs.

The four of them paced restlessly for what felt like ages. Vilkas kept glancing towards the stairs leading down to the living quarters, as though he expected Cry to appear there, holding their baby, but she didn't. Neither Faisley nor Danica appeared there, either.

Tilma, who'd been lingering on the edge of the mead hall, approached Aela.

"Can I get anyone anything?" she asked, and Aela looked around at the three men before shaking her head.

"I don't think so, Tilma, but thank you."

Vilkas exhaled, and ran a hand down his face. "I just feel so helpless," he confided, and Hainin reached out to pat his shoulder.

"We all do," he said.

Just then, there were footsteps on the stairs, and Faisley appeared, her eyes bright.

"You can come down," she said, breathless. "It's a girl."

"And they're both -?" Vilkas began, and Faisley shook her head, smiling.

"They're fine."

A collective sigh swept through the room. Aela heard Tilma say a thank you to the Divines. Vilkas was grinning, and he hurried across the mead hall and down the stairs into the living quarters, Hainin right behind him.

Aela looked at Farkas, who'd gone pale with relief, and had sunk into a chair with a heavy exhalation.

"That was a lot, wasn't it?" she asked him, and he nodded wearily.

"I'm glad it's over."

* * *

Vilkas grinned down at the small bundle he was holding, down at his daughter, and then he looked at Cry, who appeared to be exhausted but happy.

"She's incredible, love," he whispered, returning his attention to their babe. "I love you both so much."

Cry managed a weak smile in response, and leaned further back into her pillow. "I just want to sleep, to be quite honest," she said, and Vilkas turned his grin to her.

"Of course you do." He stood up from the edge of the bed, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You've earned it."

He started to leave the room, still holding the baby, but Cry called him to a halt. He glanced back at her.

"What is it, my love?"

Cry blinked down at the bed for a moment, as though gathering her thoughts. She then looked up at him again. "Will you be all right, taking care of everything?" she asked.

Vilkas smiled again. "Yes, as I've said before. You don't need to worry about that right now."

"I just… I want to make sure that you won't have any problems," Cry said, gazing at him steadily.

Vilkas returned to the bedside. "I love you, very much," he began, "but this is the last thing we should be discussing right now. Our daughter doesn't even have a name yet."

Cry's smile returned. "I'm sure you'll think of a good one." She was silent for a moment, and then her expression turned serious once more. "Just… promise me you'll ask for help if you need it."

"Of course I will," Vilkas answered. "I'm stubborn, but not nearly as stubborn as you." He kissed her again, on the lips this time, careful to avoid bumping the babe. "Sleep, my love."

Cry nodded, and settled down further into the bed. She watched Vilkas leave the room, carrying their baby, and she smiled to herself before closing her eyes.

Vilkas set the baby down in her cradle in the sitting room of the Harbinger's Quarters, grinning to himself. He then turned, and looked at Faisley, who was sitting at the table. She smiled at him.

"I'll stay with them," she said. "You should try to get some sleep."

Vilkas nodded, and then he let out a breath. "Faisley, I apologize for how I've acted towards you," he said, and she shook her head.

"It's much easier to forget all that was said during the last months. Everyone says things that they don't mean." She rose from her seat and crossed over to the cradle, looking down into it. "She's wonderful, Vilkas. That's what matters."

Vilkas nodded in agreement. "I'll see you in the morning," he said, and then he exited the room altogether, closing the doors behind him.

Aela stood outside in the hallway, almost as though she was standing guard. Vilkas smiled when he saw her. "You don't need to do that," he said. "They're both safe here."

"I know," Aela responded, "but I don't plan on getting any sleep, so I'm just… making myself useful." She looked at him, her expression soft. "The babe is beautiful, Vilkas. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Vilkas answered, grinning widely. "I'm tired, though, so I think I'm going to get some rest."

"Go ahead," Aela invited, nodding the direction of her room. "It's not being used tonight."

Vilkas headed that way, but paused before going inside. He looked back at her. "Aela?" She glanced at him, and he smiled again, softer this time. "Thank you, for everything you've done for us."

Aela merely waved her hand. "You get sappy when you're tired. Go to bed."

Vilkas chuckled, and disappeared into her room, leaving the door open. Aela smiled to herself, and leaned back against the wall.

"You're welcome," she said, quietly.

Upstairs in the mead hall, Farkas was telling Hainin all about the time he and Cry had gone giant hunting.

"He knocked her twenty feet. She flew through the air and hit the ground hard. I thought for sure she was dead, but she wasn't, just had a few broken ribs." The burly Companion shook his head. "She can survive anything, I swear."

Hainin grinned at this. "She _is_ the Dragonborn," he said. "Did you go down and see your niece?"

Farkas nodded happily. "She's got big blue eyes, just like Cry. No hair yet, though."

Hainin yawned. "It'll grow in eventually," he said, and then he rose from his chair, stretching his arms over his head and rotating his wrists until they cracked. "Thank you for the story, but I'm exhausted."

"Me, too," Farkas agreed. "Guess we should get some sleep. It's been a long night."

"And a stressful one," Hainin added, dropping his arms.

"You could say that again," Farkas rumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Good night, Hainin."

Hainin smiled at him. "Aw, Farkas, you didn't call me 'assassin'. You're getting better."

"Go away," Farkas grunted at him, and Hainin's smile widened.

"I'll see you in the morning, Companion," he said, and then he started for his guest chamber. He reached it, and closed the doors behind him.

He remained upright long enough to dress down to just his breeches, and then he collapsed onto the bed. Within minutes, he was asleep.

And, just as quickly, it seemed, he was being shaken awake.

"Hainin, you need to come quickly!" He registered Aela looming over him, gripping his shoulder. Her eyes were wide with panic. "It's Cry."

Hainin scrambled out of bed. Not bothering to pull a shirt on, he followed Aela across the mead hall and down to the living quarters. Candles were lit along the hall, and the door to the Harbinger's chambers was wide open. As they approached it, Hainin could hear quickened, pained panting, and he hurried into the bedchamber.

Farkas, Faisley, and Vilkas were all already there, surrounding the bed. Danica was at Cry's side, touching her forehead with a cloth. Cry's eyes were wide and bloodshot, and she was drenched in sweat, her tunic sticking to her skin.

Danica moved away from the bed when Cry jerked, her own eyes huge with fear. Cry scrambled, trying to sit up. "I should be getting up," she said between gasps of air.

"No, no, my love," Vilkas said, putting a gentle hand on her chest to keep her down. "You just need to rest."

Cry squeezed her eyes shut and reached up to grasp at her forehead. "Muh-my head," she whimpered, and then she smacked her palm against it, hard. "My head!"

"Cry," Hainin started, moving forward. He pushed his way to the side of the bed, and dunked a rag into the bowl of water on the table there. "Cry, let me wash your forehead. The cold water will help."

Cry didn't seem to hear him. She let out a sickening wail, and then tried to inhale. It cut off in a watery hiccup. Tears were streaming down her cheeks from her tightly closed eyes.

"Cry?" Hainin watched in disbelief as her quiet whimpering suddenly stopped, and the Dragonborn went stiff.

"Oh, Gods," Vilkas whispered, going pale.

Cry's head pushed backwards into the pillow as her body began convulsing. Hainin grabbed for her shoulders, wanting to keep her still, to stop the jerking.

"Cry? Cry!" She didn't respond. "She can't hear me," he said to no one in particular, and then tried again: "Cry? Cry, it's Hainin. Can you hear me?"

Cry jerked to the side, and Hainin saw her neck work helplessly as her body struggled to take in air.

"She can't hear me," he said again, shaking her. "Cry!"

"Cry, please," Vilkas said, his own face now covered in tears. He leaned around Hainin to be closer to his wife. "Please, please, my love."

Aela turned sharply towards Danica. "What's wrong with her?" she demanded.

Danica was pale as well. "This is delivery shock," she said, "but… it can't be, because she hasn't just delivered. She should be past the point where she'd suffer from it."

"Clearly not!" Aela shouted. "Do something!"

"Nothing can be done." This was Faisley, who was gazing at her shaking sister with a blank expression. "Once the convulsions begin, nothing can stop them."

"Help her, help her, please!" Vilkas cried, shoving Hainin out of the way so that he could grab Cry's hand.

"She can't breathe," Hainin said, blinking as Vilkas placed one of his hands under Cry's head, in order to support it, since her neck was not.

"Please, love, breathe," he urged. "That's all you have to do."

"There has to be something you can do!" Farkas exclaimed, rounding on Danica, who shook her head helplessly, at a loss for words.

"Cry, Cry, please, love, it's me. All you have to do is breathe," Vilkas repeated, turning Cry so that she was on her back, one hand still holding up her head, as though that would help her get some air into her body. He pressed her stiff hand to his cheek, and kissed the back of it. "Please breathe, love, please."

Hainin continued to blink, not really registering what was happening. "She can't… breathe," he said again, and then he staggered backwards a few steps. Aela caught him before he could fall over entirely.

There was no sound in the room other than Vilkas's quiet pleading for Cry to breathe, for her not to leave him. Everyone else waited, silent, helpless. After another minute, Cry stopped jerking on the bed, and then she went slack. She was colorless, Hainin saw, which was so unlike the pink faced woman who'd greeted him at the doors of Jorrvaskr only two weeks prior.

"Please don't leave me, love," Vilkas whispered one final time, and then he broke down in sobs.

Faisley covered her mouth with her hand and ran from the room. Farkas pushed a hand into his hair and left it there, yanking tightly as though to ground himself, his eyes squeezed shut. Aela was still, her eyes fixed on Cry and Vilkas. She didn't appear to be breathing.

Slowly, Danica approached the bed and placed two fingers against Cry's neck. After a moment, she took them away, and closed her own eyes before retreating back to the corner of the room.

Hainin swallowed, thickly, and bowed his head, listening to Vilkas's sobs. He didn't cry, not anymore, but that didn't stop him from releasing a dry sob of his own and covering his face with his hands.

Cry Silverworthy was dead.

There was suddenly the sound of a baby's wail from the adjoined sitting room. Hainin's head rose, slowly, and he removed himself from the bedchamber, leaving Vilkas to grieve and Farkas and Aela to deal with Danica, once they gathered their senses.

In the sitting room, he found the babe's cradle, and he crossed over to it. As he looked into it at the tiny thing, Gods damn him if he didn't have the sudden urge to smother it.

He resisted it, somehow, and collapsed to the floor beside the cradle. He then hung his head between his knees and began to cry right along with the babe.

* * *

 **...**

 **A Harbinger's Trials was 53,317 words. This chapter was 3,317.**


	37. The End - The Song

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Yes. :(**

 **Nina: Because it's A Story's Conclusion. It had to happen.**

 **Manu: I'm so mean to my characters.**

* * *

 **The End: The Song**

* * *

The sky was heavy with dark gray clouds the morning Cry Silverworthy was carried to the Skyforge and laid out on a pyre. The rain didn't arrive until after the pyre had been set to burning, and by that point, no one was able to tell rain apart from tears. Everyone present was crying, some openly, and others subtly, reaching up to wipe away tears and rain alike every so often.

Even as the pyre smoked beneath the cloud-heavy, rainy sky, void of any resemblance to its original form, the Dragonborn's husband remained nearby, gazing into the smoke and seeing all sorts of things. He saw the first time he met his wife. He saw her swing her greatsword around proudly, grinning the whole time. He saw her shout fire into the sky after a great black dragon. He saw her fly off into the distance on the back of a red one.

He saw her walk towards him in her wedding dress. He saw her in her wolf form, during the war with Hircine. He saw her after she'd returned to him, after one of their toughest periods. He saw her singing. He saw her reading. He saw her.

He saw _her_.

"Vilkas?"

He closed his eyes, and turned his head away from Aela, who'd come back up to the Skyforge, looking for him. She remained several paces away, but she continued speaking: "You should come inside. The rain is going to make you ill."

Vilkas didn't respond. He hadn't spoken since that morning, that wicked, evil morning when his wife had left him.

Aela let out a breath. "Vilkas, I won't even try to convince you that I know what you're feeling, because I know that I have no idea whatsoever. But you have a daughter, who just lost her mother, that needs her father. You have a twin, who just lost his friend, that needs his brother. You have a group of warriors, who just lost their Harbinger, that need their Master at Arms. Without you, everything is going to fall apart. Is that what Cry would've wanted?"

Vilkas remained silent, and Aela gazed at him for a moment longer before she shook her head to herself. "She doesn't need you anymore, Vilkas, but plenty of others do." She started for the stairs. "You're allowed to grieve, but you should keep them in mind while you do so."

With that, she disappeared from view, and Vilkas sank to his knees at the edge of the Skyforge, tears leaking out of his closed eyes. He hung his head in his hands and wished for his wife.

The inside of Jorrvaskr was filled with red-eyes, sniffles, and quiet murmuring. No one seemed to have much to say, and plenty chose not to say anything at all. Instead, they studied their hands, and let their tears fall in silence.

Queen Faisley Stormcloak was seated with her husband, but neither of them looked like royalty. Faisley hung her head between her hands to hide her tears, and Ulfric rubbed a hand up and down her back, eyes focused on nothing in particular.

Galmar Stone-Fist stood close by, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were red, and he sniffled occasionally, but no tears fell as he spoke quietly to the only other Stormcloak soldier present. Ralof nodded along to whatever Galmar was saying, but he wasn't really listening. His attention was focused on the crying baby that was currently cradled in the arms of a redheaded thief, who'd thought that holding a babe would be no trouble at all.

Brynjolf bounced the child up and down in an effort to quiet her cries, but the babe was having none of it. She continued to wail to the heavens, as though trying to call her mother back to her. Brynjolf was beginning to lose his patience.

At a table near where the thief stood with the unnamed babe, two assassins sat, watching him. The Redguard glanced towards his Listener, whose eyes were bloodshot from both lack of sleep and constant crying. Nazir had never seen Hainin look so horrible, aside from when his mother had died. Currently, Hainin's gaze was fixed on Brynjolf, or rather, the baby he was cradling.

"He needs to shut that thing up before I do it for him," he finally muttered, and Nazir exhaled. He reached over and placed a hand on top of Hainin's. Thankfully, the Imperial didn't jerk it away.

"She knows that we're all grieving for her mother, and so she's doing the same in the only way she knows how," Nazir told him.

"I don't care what kind of metaphoric explanation you want to give it," Hainin growled. "The thing killed its mother."

"You know that isn't true." Farkas had wandered over to the table. If Hainin looked bad, the Companion looked even worse. He slumped down in one of the empty chairs. "Still, it would be nice if she stopped crying."

"She's probably upset that she still doesn't have a name." That was Aela, coming over as well. She leaned against the wall instead of taking the last remaining chair, and shook her head when Farkas looked at her, a glint of hopefulness in his eyes. "He's not coming inside anytime soon."

"The girl wants her father," Nazir determined, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, her father doesn't seem to care that she exists, presently," Aela told him, "so we should try to come up with a different solution, since clearly Brynjolf's honeyed words don't work on her, just like they didn't work on Cry."

"They worked the first time," Brynjolf grumbled, just loud enough to be heard. "And, please, if no one can come up with a solution, someone else at least take her from me."

"I have a solution," Hainin muttered, and Nazir shot him a look.

"Don't be like this," he said. "I know that you're angry, but you should not blame the child."

"I can blame who I like!" Hainin exploded, rising from his chair. Before anyone could stop him, he stalked over to where Brynjolf stood with the babe. "I'm tired of it! I'm tired of the crying! I'm tired of the knowing that she's not coming back! I'm tired of _everything_ , and it's all this thing's fault!"

Because Brynjolf was so surprised, Hainin was easily able to snatch the baby from him. She heard blades being drawn as Aela reacted instinctively, beginning to draw an arrow back in her bow's string, but something brought her to a pause before she could release it. In fact, everything seemed to come to a pause as all eyes focused on the babe in Hainin's arms, who had suddenly gone silent, for the first time in hours.

Hainin was gaping down at her as well, and he was surprised to see that she was blinking serenely up at him, her blue eyes tired, probably from all the crying that she'd been doing instead of resting. Before he could do anything, she yawned widely, her eyes closed, and just like that, the babe was asleep.

Hainin _melted_.

He staggered down to a kneeling position, careful not to jostle the babe as he did so, and his expression softened as he looked down at her sleeping face. He lifted his gaze after a moment, and it landed on Nazir.

"I… I think she likes me," he said, quietly, and it was Nazir's turn to melt, especially when he saw the tears in Hainin's eyes.

The Listener bowed his head over the baby. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to her. "I know it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry." He sobbed, and Faisley walked over to him in order to retrieve the baby before he could cry all over her.

Hainin responded to this rather violently, turning away abruptly. "No!" he said. "She's all I have left of her!" He swallowed thickly. "She's all _we_ have left of her."

Faisley's eyes suddenly burned with newfound tears, and she turned away, retreating back over to Ulfric, who drew her into his arms.

No one else attempted to take the baby from Hainin, who was no longer about to cry. Instead, holding the babe seemed to be a sort of comfort to him, after his most recent revelation about her. He stared down at her, his eyes gentle, and he cooed to her, softly.

Nazir rested his head in his hands. Seeing Hainin with the babe was stirring up feelings that he shouldn't be feeling, particularly at a funeral. It was just extremely endearing, seeing Hainin so vulnerable and soft. It was almost as attractive as seeing him in diplomatic situations, or while he was shooting his bow, and it shouldn't have been, not just then.

Aela had taken Hainin's vacated seat when she saw that the Listener posed no threat to the baby. She glanced at Farkas, who'd covered his eyes, his shoulders shaking. He was crying again.

Everyone would cry again before the day was over, and it was barely noon.

* * *

Vilkas remained on the Skyforge even after the rain had gone. He was soaked to the skin, but he didn't seem to notice. He was gazing at the spot where Cry's pyre had sat hours before, now nothing more than ashes. He didn't know what he was waiting for, but he felt as though that he was meant to wait, because something would happen if he did, and was patient about it. Something _had_ to happen.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but at some point he did. In his dreams, he was haunted by more images of Cry, these ones even more heart wrenching than the ones he'd seen in the smoke. These were real, so real he felt as though he could reach out and touch her.

And, because it was a dream, he did so, and was relieved when he made contact with her hand as she reached out to touch him as well.

"Vilkas," she murmured, smiling at him. Her eyes were shining bright blue. "You should be inside. Our daughter needs you. Our Companions need you."

"I need _you_ ," Vilkas whispered, wanting to hold her, and not simply touch her hand. "Why did you leave me?"

Cry lost her gentle smile, and her eyes dimmed slightly. "I did it for _her_ , Vilkas," she murmured. "For our daughter. I knew what I was at risk of, and I knew what could be done to save me, but I also knew that the chances of our daughter dying instead would be much higher. I made a choice." She paused. "And you told me that you would be all right. I thought it would be all right for me to go."

"I didn't know that - that you meant that I'd actually be alone," Vilkas said. "If I had, I never would've said yes to you, because I can't do this by myself, Cry. I can't. You were always so much stronger than me, and now you expect me to be strong without you? You ask too much of me."

"Vilkas, I would never ask you to do more than I know that you're capable of." Cry lowered her hand, breaking their connection. Vilkas felt the loss immediately, and he panicked when she disappeared from view. He spun around, searching for her, desperate.

"Cry! Please come back! I need you! I need you…" He trailed off, eyes closing, and he felt a gentle brush against his cheek, as though someone were stroking it with their fingertips.

He then heard her whisper to him: "I will never fully leave you, my love. In every song you hear, I'll be there. Whenever our daughter laughs or smiles, I will be there. For every dragon that flies over the sun, cloaking the land in shadow for a brief moment, know that when the light returns that it is me."

There was a light press of lips against his. "I love you, Vilkas. Do all that I know that you're capable of, and please, don't be afraid to ask for help."

Vilkas closed his eyes. "I won't be. I'm not as stubborn as you."

He heard Cry chuckle, and then he was waking up. He was still laying before the Skyforge, and now he could feel the coldness of his damp clothing and hair against his skin. Stiff, he sat up, and then climbed to his feet. He looked at the spot where the pyre has burned one last time before he exhaled and started down from the forge.

When the doors of Jorrvaskr opened, everyone jumped, including the babe, despite the fact that she'd been dozing peacefully in Hainin's arms. She began to wail once more, and Hainin winced, holding his arms slightly away from his body.

"I'll take her."

He started at the voice, and slowly turned to see Vilkas standing behind him. The Companion looked a right mess, but his eyes were clear, and he'd spoken, which, to Hainin, meant he could be trusted to hold the child.

Carefully, the baby was transferred from his arms to her father's. As soon as the transfer was complete, she fell silent, and she gazed up at Vilkas with wide blue eyes.

Unexpectedly, Vilkas smiled slightly, and cradled her closer to his chest, his eyes closing.

Everyone began to cry for the final time that day.

* * *

The whole of Skyrim mourned their Dragonborn. When the news reached each of the nine holds, which didn't take long, the jarls all immediately declared a new holiday called Dragonborn Day, to be celebrated on the 21st of Hearthfire each year, Cry's birthday.

Letters were sent to Jorrvaskr, written with condolences for Vilkas, and sending their hopes to him and the babe, who, unfortunately, still did not have a name, even a week after her birth.

Vilkas and Hainin, who had elected to stay behind in Jorrvaskr for a while longer, with Nazir's permission, to help Vilkas for a while, mostly with handling all the mail he was receiving, and sending back responses, were the ones in charge of that. At first, Vilkas hadn't known if it was necessary, but then Farkas had asked him what Cry would have done, and that was the end of the discussion. Everyone who sent a letter was getting a reply.

On top of his letter writing, Vilkas also had a newborn babe on his hands. Thankfully, Aela had recruited a nursemaid, who was able to feed the babe. Vilkas wasn't sure if he felt comfortable with it, but then Aela had said that there was no other way of ensuring the babe received her proper nutrients, and so he'd conceded.

Besides, the nursemaid was nice enough, and she seemed to have eyes for his twin, which Vilkas didn't necessarily approve of, considering she was only supposed to be feeding his daughter, but he wasn't complaining, either, especially when he noticed that Farkas was making eyes right back.

When two weeks had passed, and the babe was still being referred to as 'Little Cub' and 'Tiny One', Hainin decided to put his foot down.

"She needs a name!" he declared one evening, after Vilkas had come back upstairs from putting her in her cradle.

That surprised Vilkas, who hasn't been expecting such an outburst, and caused Farkas to spit up the drink of mead that he had just taken. Aela merely frowned at the assassin.

"We know," she said, dryly. "You don't need to yell about it."

Hainin scowled back. "I wasn't yelling," he stated, and then he looked at Vilkas, "but I was being serious. If you don't name her, I will, and you do not want me to name your daughter."

Vilkas exhaled a breath, and he settled down in a chair at the mead hall table. "Maybe you _should_ name her, Hainin," he said tiredly, holding his head in his hands. "I just don't have any desire to."

The other three were silent as they exchanged glances. Vilkas had been acting a bit better, but he was still suffering. He just wasn't being as open about it. Now, however, looking at him, all three could tell that he was putting off naming the babe, perhaps because he felt that, if he did so, it would sort of be him closing the chapter that had opened during her birth, and he didn't want to let go of that bit just yet.

"Well… if I come up with a good one, I'll let you know," Aela finally said.

"Me too," Farkas agreed.

"I'm still going to stay out of it," Hainin said, holding up his hands.

That caused Vilkas to smile, but only slightly, and he lifted his head. "I sort of want it to be based on Cry, but not in such a way that… well, you know, makes Cry the only thing I can think about when I say it. Does that make sense?"

"So… Cry's out, then? And her old name, too?" Farkas guessed, and Vilkas nodded. "Well… what about something that sort of… I don't know, sounds the same?"

"What do you mean?" Vilkas asked him, frowning.

"I don't know. You could just choose something that sort of sounds like Cry, or her other name." Farkas shrugged. "Maybe the other name, so that it's kind of less likely to set you off."

Aela nodded to herself after considering it for a moment. "It's not a bad idea," she said, looking at Vilkas.

"Well, her old name was Crayla," Vilkas said, and he grinned, slightly. "I don't blame her for wanting to change it."

"Yes, you definitely need something better than that," Hainin agreed, his nose wrinkled. "I like the sound at the end, though."

The next few minutes was spent mostly by the four of them trying out different names that ended in 'ah'. None of the ones that they came up with sounded right to any of them, however, and they started to get discouraged.

Vilkas sighed to himself. "She's never going to have a name," he said, quietly. "It was one of the only things Cry said to me that she seemed sure of, that night, that I'd be able to come up with one, but I can't… I can't do it."

Silence followed that, and Vilkas raised his eyes to the ceiling, exhaling, slowly. He closed them after a moment, and there was a flash of light behind them. He blinked them open, and looked at the others.

"Daina."

"What?" Aela asked, glancing at him.

"Daina," Vilkas repeated.

"That's pretty," Farkas said, and then he tried it out. "Daina." He grinned to himself, and then at Vilkas. "That's great!"

"Where'd you come up with it?" Hainin asked, and Vilkas shook his head.

"I don't know. It just… came to me," he said, and then he smiled for a third time, to himself. "Daina."

* * *

 **Well...**

 **Final chapter next week, and then a chapter of trivia after that, and then we close the book on this part of our Skyrim characters' lives.**


	38. The End - Different Conclusions

**I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The only things that I do own are my own characters, and the storylines that I place them, and characters from the original game, into. TES V has served as inspiration.**

* * *

 **Reviewer Responses:**

 **Guest: Uh... I'm gonna assume that's a happy face. Cool.**

* * *

 **The End: Different Conclusions**

* * *

"Boss."

Brynjolf glanced up from his paperwork, and frowned when a heavy coin purse was dropped directly on top of the ink-wet parchment. He lifted his gaze to find that Rune had been the one to drop it, and that the young thief was grinning, widely.

"Why would you do that?" he asked, doing his best to sound patient.

"Would you rather I drop it on your -"

"Stop," the Guild Master said quickly, and Rune laughed. "I get it, and no, I would not." Brynjolf hefted the coin purse and smiled. "Good find, Rune. I'll put this in the safe once Delvin comes through here with his key."

"You should really give a key to someone else," Rune said, and Brynjolf raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean - not - you know what I meant!"

Brynjolf grinned. "I do," he said. "You're right. I'll think about it. Maybe it's time Vex got one."

Rune nodded in agreement. "That's a good plan," he said, and then he gestured over his shoulder. "I'm going to go get some food from the Flagon. Do you want me to bring anything back for you?"

"No, I was going to get up and get my own food soon enough," Brynjolf responded, crushing up the ruined parchment in his fists. "I just need to finish this first."

"Well, don't forget to eat again," Rune told him. "My job shouldn't be to remind you to eat food. That should just be something you know to do."

Brynjolf glanced downwards. "I know," he said with a sigh, "but I appreciate the reminders."

Rune shook his head. "Eat soon, please," he said, and then he walked off.

Brynjolf leaned back in his chair with a heavy exhalation, and then he glanced around the cistern. Only a few of the thieves were present, and they were all seated at the table in the kitchen area, eating dinner of their own. Brynjolf considered going to join them, but decided he wasn't hungry quite yet, and so he stood up and walked to the training room instead.

Once there, he pulled out his two daggers and started to attack one of the dummies, grunting with each swing. He spun around the dummy, as though it were an actual opponent with weapons to avoid, and he worked up a sweat in no time. He paused in front of it again, breathing heavily, and then his heavy breathing dissolved into sobs. He collapsed to his knees on the stone floor in front of the statue, his daggers falling from his hands.

He sat like that on the floor for what felt like ages, just crying. His shoulders shook, and his eyes burned, and he felt like he was going to vomit all over the place. The worst part was that he didn't know _why_. Cry had died two years ago; there was no reason for it, anymore. He'd never loved Ziris; he couldn't have been crying over _her_ death, either.

Right?

It seemed to be hours before someone came into the training room and found him like that. He heard them, first, mostly because he was still crying and couldn't exactly see. After a moment, however, he felt them. Whoever it was had crouched down behind him, and had wrapped their arms around his shoulders.

It took Brynjolf a moment, but eventually he recognized their familiar scent, which was a mixture of the metal of lockpicks, a sweetened wine that they had made specifically for themselves, and, oddly enough, _honey_.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around Vex's arm, turning his head to sob into the crook of her elbow. Vex leaned her chin against it, rubbing his shoulder.

"It's all right," she said softly, holding him tighter. "Hard to not have emotions, isn't it?"

Brynjolf chuckled weakly through his quieting sobs. "I don't know how you manage to do it all the time," he said, and Vex smiled to herself.

"I don't," she said. "I'm showing emotion right now." She turned her head until her face was pressed into his hair. "It's all right for us to have a break down every few years, I think."

"Yeah," Brynjolf agreed, sniffling. "Me too."

* * *

"Faisley, please don't walk away from me," Ulfric sighed, but Faisley did not turn back around. She stalked from the bedchamber and slammed the door behind her. She then leaned against the wall opposite it, and closed her eyes to hold back tears.

She hated fighting with Ulfric, but that seemed to be all they did lately. They couldn't agree on anything, and whenever they were together, all they did was yell. Thankfully, they were rarely together, as Ulfric spent most of his time in the great hall on the throne, sitting at the head of court sessions six times a week for four hours a day. After that, he spent time with Galmar discussing Stormcloak positions around Skyrim to ensure that the Imperials didn't move back in. They didn't see one another until supper time, and even while they were eating, they were arguing.

She couldn't figure out what there was left to do.

She paced up and down the corridor for a few moments, her eyes closed. She'd handled plenty of hard situations on her own, being that her parents died when she was rather young, before she'd encountered any hardships, and that her sister left soon after. Sure, she'd always had Ulfric if she needed him, but he was never there for her in the way that she actually needed someone.

But, once that she'd encountered her sister again, she had hoped that, maybe, she wouldn't have to do things on her own anymore.

She felt herself starting to tear up, and she shook her head against it. It had been two years; it wasn't okay to cry about it anymore.

"Faisley."

She stiffened, and reached up to wipe away any tears that might've slipped, and she turned around to face Ulfric, who had come out of the bedchamber and was standing in the corridor behind her.

"What?" she asked, dryly, and he let out a breath.

"I just want to speak with you," he said. "I'm sorry."

"About what? Or are you just going to say everything, because you can't pick?" Faisley inquired. When Ulfric didn't respond, she scoffed and started to move past him, to go downstairs. Before she could get far, Ulfric reached out and took her wrist in his hand, gently.

"Faisley," he said, softly, and she bowed her head, but didn't turn to look at him. "I know that we haven't had the best marriage, but it isn't because we're not supposed to be together. I feel that there's a deeper reason, one that we can't pinpoint because we're used to things being like this."

"Are we?" Faisley glanced backwards at him, but only long enough to garner his reaction to her question. There was a flash in his eyes, but other than that, nothing, and she pulled her wrist from his grasp. "You know what, Ulfric? I don't… I don't know what there is for us to do, other than what we usually do, so let's just get it over with."

She turned to face him fully, but kept her gaze on the floor. "I apologize. Forget I said anything."

Ulfric gazed at her for a moment, and she thought he was going to say something new, something that he had never tried before. He didn't however.

"And you should do the same, with my own words," he murmured. "Forgive me."

"I do," Faisley said, and then she turned on her heel and walked away from him.

She wasn't ever going to be truly happy. She knew that, had known that from the moment her father told her that she was going to be Ulfric's wife, someday. But she could at least pretend, for the sake of her country.

After all, Skyrim was the most important thing to her. It always had been, and always would be. That, if nothing else, was something she was proud to say she shared with her sister.

* * *

"Dai, please be careful!"

Daina giggled as she leapt to the next stone crossing over the small stream cutting through the path in the woods.

Vilkas sighed to himself, knowing she hadn't paid him any attention, and carefully stepped into the next stone. Farkas followed behind him, and Aela was behind _him_ , keeping a watchful eye out.

"Why is it that we're meeting them in the woods?" Farkas questioned, and Vilkas shook his head, stepping onto the opposite bank and watching as his daughter began to chase after a butterfly.

"I don't know," he said. "They didn't say."

"Well, it better be a good reason," his twin determined with a grunt. "First we had to travel all the way to where Helgen used to be, and then we had to pick our way through the woods to find it. It's ridiculous."

Aela chuckled to herself. "You complain a lot more than you used to," she teased, and Farkas grunted again.

"Daina, no!" Vilkas called, but it was too late. His daughter, intent on capturing the butterfly, had tripped over a rock in her path. She tumbled to the ground, and he hurried towards he as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. He lip was trembling, and Vilkas crouched down in front of her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked her worriedly, and Daina nodded, then held out her hand. The skin on the heel of it was torn up from the gravelly path.

Vilkas took her hand and kissed the red skin. "There," he said, smiling at her. "Da made it better."

Daina offered him a watery smile, and Vilkas straightened back up.

"Up!" Daina insisted, holding up her arms, and Vilkas rolled his eyes.

"You can walk," he told her, and Daina stuck out her lower lip in response.

"Up!" she said again, more firmly this time.

Vilkas cast a long-suffering look in the direction of his Companions. "Since when do I submit to the orders of a two-year-old?" he asked them, and Aela smiled.

"Since you realized she was just as persuasive as her mother."

"Fair enough." Vilkas bent down and picked up his daughter, who squealed happily as he swung her into the air and onto his shoulders. "Come on," he said, "Uncle Hainin is waiting."

"Unca 'Ainin!" Daina cried in excitement, and then she further showed her enthusiasm by banging her hands on Vilkas's head.

He winced, and Farkas laughed. He reached up, and tickled Daina, who giggled and shoved his hand away.

"Let's go," Aela said with a shake of her head, but she was grinning. She led the way deeper into the woods, and the two men followed her, Daina gripping into her father's hair to steady herself.

Eventually, they reached the tree line of a clearing, through which they could hear familiar voices, which were, unsurprisingly, arguing with one another. Vilkas exchanged an amused glance with Aela before he pushed his way into the clearing.

Hainin and Nazir were standing side by side in the center of it, going back and forth about something.

"We should've spelled it differently."

"What other way is there to spell it?"

"I don't know! Maybe we should've written it in the Dragon language. It might've made more sense that way."

"It's perfect the way it is."

"Just wait until they show up and prove you wrong. Oh, they're going to hate it."

"Hate what?" Vilkas questioned, lowering Daina to solid ground. She immediately hurried forward and wrapped herself around one of Hainin's legs.

"Hey!" Hainin said, pretending to lose his balance. Daina laughed cheerfully, unconcerned, and Hainin reached down to ruffle her dark hair before looking up at the Companions.

"Glad you found it all right," he said. "I know it's kind of hard to tell now, but this used to be Helgen." He gestured around the clearing, and Vilkas looked around, not believing him in the slightest but choosing not to argue.

"All right," he said after a moment, "but why exactly are we here?"

Hainin glanced sideways at Nazir, who nodded. Together, the two assassins sidestepped, revealing a small wooden post that was stuck in the ground. There were words engraved into it, and Vilkas moved closer so that he could read them.

 _Dragonborn Wood_

Vilkas frowned in confusion, and lifted his gaze to the two assassins. "What's this?" he asked them, and they exchanged a look.

"Well," Hainin began, "we were in Windhelm for reasons undisclosed, and we decided to stop in and speak with our good friend the High King of Skyrim, Ulfric Stormcloak."

"And he expressed interest in how you and Daina were doing, and asked us to tell you that he and Faisley wish to visit their niece as soon as they have the time," Nazir put in.

"Right, right, and then I said,'Well, you know, Daina's birthday is soon,'" Hainin continued, 'and I'm sure that she'd like to see you two then.' And Ulfric was very distressed, because the life of a king is hard work, and he never has free time anymore. And so he said, 'I wish there was a way to make up missing the last one, and this one, too.'"

"And then Hainin told him that maybe there was," Nazir concluded, and he gestured to the post. "So, welcome to the newly renamed Dragonborn Wood, stretching from the east of the Throat of the World all the way to the edges of the woods near the Reach."

"And he was allowed to do that?" Farkas asked, sounding uncertain.

"Yeah, why not? They're a piece of the land that he rules; he should be able to name or rename anything on it." Hainin glanced at Vilkas. "And I don't think that anyone will be upset about this change."

Vilkas was watching Daina as she examined the post. She ran her fingers over the engraved words, and then looked at him.

"Mama?" she questioned, and Vilkas smiled before nodding.

"Yes," he said. "Mama."

"The kid's too damn smart," Hainin decided as Daina grinned back at Vilkas and then returned her attention to tracing the letters. "Was that her reading?"

"No," Vilkas answered, "she just knows who her mother was, that's all."

Daina seemed to lose interest in the post as a rabbit appeared nearby. She squealed and ran towards it. Of course, the rabbit hopped away as quickly as it could, but Daina chased after it, arms out in front of her.

"She's going to be exhausted," Aela commented, and Vilkas's shoulders relaxed.

"Thank the Gods."

They all exchanged a laugh, and Daina stopped chasing after the rabbit to look at them and laugh as well. That just got everyone laughing again, and Hainin reached up to wipe some tears from his eyes.

"I swear," he started, looking at Vilkas, "that she's more like Cry every time I see her. And I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

Vilkas smiled to himself as he watched his daughter, his chest tightening. "It is," he said after a moment, and then he looked at the others. "Really, it is."

Hainin reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting rub. "Yeah," he agreed, "you're right."

Daina finally lost interest in the rabbit, and she returned to the group, holding up her arms towards Hainin, who grinned and leaned down to pick her up. He tossed her into the air, and she giggled as he caught her again, and held her close.

"Hey," he said, softly, and she blinked at him, still smiling. "You take care of your father, all right?"

Daina blinked again, more seriously this time, her smile gone. She was silent, but then she reached up and pressed her hand against Hainin's cheek, and he smirked at her.

"Yeah, you get it," he said, and he passed her over to Vilkas. Daina latched her arms around his neck, then yawned widely, right in his face.

Everyone shared another laugh, and Vilkas reached up with one hand to tap her on the nose. "We should get you home, love," he said, and then he looked at Hainin. "Thank you, Hainin," he said. "Really."

Hainin waved his hand. "We don't do thank yous. They're too sentimental."

Vilkas glanced at Nazir, who shrugged. "I may have told him that you're bad at them," the Redguard said, and Vilkas shook his head to himself.

"Well, then I won't thank you," he said to Hainin, "but -"

"I get it!" the Listener cried. "Stop trying!" He was grinning, however, and he reached out a hand towards Daina, who slapped it with a laugh. "See ya later, kid," he said to her, and then he and Nazir turned and walked from the clearing, already bantering back and forth.

"Can we have one?" Hainin asked Nazir.

"You, actually take care of a child? No, I don't think so."

"Why not? I'd be a good parent!"

"I'm not saying that you wouldn't be, in the long run, but at first? I'm not going to be the only one feeding him and changing his little cloth things when he soils them."

"Him and his?" Hainin inquired, a grin evident in his voice. Nazir reached over and shoved him in response. Hainin laughed, then shoved him right back.

The Companions waited for the assassins to disappear before looking at one another. "Ready to go?" Vilkas asked the other two, who nodded in agreement. Together, they exited the clearing as well, the Dragonborn's daughter humming to herself as they went, a tune all of then recognized as the song of the Dragonborn, which Vilkas sang to her, frequently. They walked together out of Dragonborn Wood, ready for home.

As they went, in an inn, somewhere, a bard began to sing that same song, and somewhere else, a dragon roared.

* * *

 **And there it is!**

 **I'm very proud of that final sentence, by the way. Worked hard to finish this story the best way I could, and I think I did a pretty damn good job.**

 **Trivia next week, and some discussion about this story, and the future of my Skyrim-verse. See you there.**


	39. The End - Trivia!

**Some Part 3 Trivia!**

* * *

1\. Cry was always going to die, kiddos. I just wasn't super sure of how. And then I watched an episode of Downton Abbey and I realized… "That's how."

2\. I have now killed two characters via childbirth. And the kill count continues to rise.

3\. Cry's was the other death that I wrote the same night as Ziris's.

4\. Vilkas is all right. I like to imagine that he's the one who becomes Harbinger, and then he leads the Companions for years, until he dies and reunites with Cry in Sovngarde, and my God, that'll be a nice reunion.

5\. I do lowkey ship Brynjolf and Vex as a couple, and Vex is one of my favorite characters, so I wanted to write her for a second. I know it wasn't really her character, but even Vex has a soft side, I think.

6\. Hainin and Nazir… probably not going to have a kid, but it's fun to think about. They wouldn't be able to raise one, not around that group of assassins. Despite how much they like their job, they do not want that for their baby.

7\. Daina is Lithuanian for "the song" (see chapter 37's title). I know 'Vilkas' is Lithuanian for "wolf", and I was having a really hard time thinking up a name for the kid, so I was like, "Well, shit, what's 'cry' in Lithuanian?" and it wasn't great, so then I was like. "All right, how about dragon?" but then I was like, "Nah, Cry was the dragon, not her daughter." So then I thought long and hard about something else that represented Cry, and I remembered that she was our bard, and so 'Daina' happened.

8\. I like Brynjolf. I do. He's… he's the definition of 'fuck boi', but he's doing his best, and I think being Guild Master is good for him. If I can, I might try to delve into writing something for him, eventually, because he is one of my favorite characters. I don't know what the premise of the story would be, considering my Thieves Guild character is, well, dead, but we'll see.

9\. He's always going to love Cry, and uh… maybe they'll come together at some point in the future? I don't know. I'm not one to speculate. (Which is a major lie. Keep an eye out.)

10\. I don't like Ulfric. I don't. I thought I did, but I don't. He's… he's kind of the worst, and that's why Faisley's sticking with him, because she's the one that's going to help Skyrim. He does love Faisley, though, and she does love him, it's just… eh. It's not the same as the love between Cry and Vilkas.

11\. Farkas falls in love with Daina's nursemaid, whose name is Sibbi. They have two kids, both boys, named Jurgen and Kodlak.


	40. An Author's Note

**Hey, what's up you guys?**

 **So... this was... I can honestly only describe it as an adventure. I... I learned so, _so_ much about not only my characters, but about the characters that were wonderfully crafted by Bethesda to be placed in the Skyrim universe, and how I could take them, and kind of make them my own, and it's was incredible. I also learned a lot about my writing while crafting this story, and I can honestly say that it helped me grow as an author. **

**That being said... I know it ain't perfect. Nothing I write,** _ever_ **, is going to be perfect, especially not my FanFictions. I know that Cry is badly written. I know that there's a lot of problems with many of the events that took place within this story. I know that if I choose to continue writing about Skyrim, writing it as my own universe, there's going to continue to be problems that I won't be able to overlook while writing, and will have to address if I want the universe to make cohesive sense.**

 **Still, there's plenty to be proud of. Hainin is probably one of my best written characters, and I'm speaking from a standpoint of looking at all of the OCs I've created, for FanFiction _and_ original work, and I have to admit that he is most definitely the one I enjoy writing the most, and the one that, I think, had grown the most out of all of them. **

**Ziris... thinking about her, as a character, I know that I sort of used her. I needed a villain, one that would cause a dramatic uproar and make everybody be like, "Wow, was _not_ expecting that," for both good and bad reasons, and it... it wasn't fair to her. She was the second character I created when playing the game, and... I did her dirty. She didn't deserve the ending that she got, and I apologize to her, and to anybody who agrees that I could have given her a different story, helped her grow and evolve just as much as Hainin has. **

**Faisley's just... you know how there's those characters in stories that are like, just there? That's her. Originally, I thought she was going to be a lot more involved, especially in this story, considering how it originally rotated around the King's Moot, and then the royal wedding, but eventually, those plot points got pushed to the side for a story that _I_ thought was better, was a better way to round out the three stories I'd already published involving the other three OCs. Because Faisley hadn't played a major role in those stories, she didn't exactly play a major role in this story, either, and that's... I think that's okay? I don't know, you tell me, I guess. **

**And then there's Cry. Cry Silverworthy. Crayla Honeyrunner (which is the _worst_ name I've ever come up with, btw). Harbinger of the Companions, Thane of All Nine Holds, Ysmir and Dragon of the North, Bearer of the Stormcrown, and Dragonborn. Looking at her, how I wrote her in this story, how I wrote her in _A Harbinger's Trials_ , and how I ended her tale... it's bittersweet. She... she was the first character I made for Skyrim, back when I was playing it on my brother's PS3 after watching Cryaotic's brief playthrough of the game, and I think... I think she just kind of stayed that character. You know what I mean? Like, she was the first one I made, the first one I finished the game with, and I didn't... I didn't really give her space to change. She was the first playthough, the amateur hour character, and that's kind of expressed in the way she's written, which is without flaws, without any real redeeming qualities, and just... kind of horrible. **

**... which leads me into my next topic of discussion.**

 **I think, if everybody's all right with it, I'm going to write Cry's original story. Her story as... as the Dragonborn, and as a Companion rising through the ranks to become the Harbinger. I'm going to write her journey through these experiences, through returning to Skyrim after having to flee in order to stay alive, through her realizing who she is as the Dragonborn, through her having to choose between staying with the Companions (and Vilkas) and saving the world, knowing very well she might not be able to return. I want to give her a chance to actually _be_ someone. I want to write her, help her grow in a way that I didn't really accomplish with _A Harbinger's Trials_ and _A Story's Conclusion_. **

**If that's what everybody else wants, too. I'm not going to write her story without everyone agreeing that they want me to give her a shot, to show them that I can craft a character from the bottom up into one that everyone is rooting for by the end.**

 **If everybody wants me to let sleeping dogs lie, however, and leave Cry's story where it ended, then that's what I'll do. I won't revolve another story on FanFiction around her, not even a short story in _A Collection of Stories_. If everyone just wants Cry to _stay dead_ , then she will. **

**So. That's where this stands. I need y'all to let me know what _you_ want, because I feel like, as the author of this universe, that y'all are involved, too. Like, you all deserve to have a say in what comes next, because of how you stuck through me, some of you since the very first one-shot I posted back in like... 2013, I think. **

**Please, send me private messages, leave a review... let me know what _you_ want to see. Do you want another story with Hainin in it? Do you want to see Ziris as the Guild Master _before_ she allowed Mercer's influence to really creep in? Do you want to see more of the Companions, how they live after Cry's death? Do you want to see Vilkas raising Daina on his own? Do you want _Daina_ to have her own story? **

**It's up to _you_ , and I'm really looking forward to seeing what you want, and writing it, too. **

**...**

 **All right, I think that's all I have to say. If you have any questions about this story, about characters in specific, anything, please, don't hesitate to shoot me a message, or leave a review, and I'll try to address those things when I can, however I can. If you don't have an account, I'll probably post another chapter on her answering those questions, and if you _do_ have an account, I'll reply to your reviews or private messages as soon as I see them. **

**Thanks again, for everything y'all did when it came to this story. For being there every week. For leaving reviews, whenever you could. For just... reading, and responding, and making me feel like there was a reason to publish the next chapter.**

 **I'll see you in the next one, if that's what you want. Otherwise... I'll see you when I see you.**

 **Bye.**


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